


Here, I Stand

by AmbrosiaOfStories



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, But Super Kind, But They're Called Something Else In Their Language, Disabled Reader, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Female Protagonist, Female Reader, Fluff and Smut, Goat Dad is Best Dad, Goat Mom Is Best Mom (Undertale), Papyrus is an adorable gooball, Prosthetics, Reader Gets Adopted By Goat Mom, Reader Has A Strange Soul, Reader Is Badass, Reader Is From A Different Country, Reader Is From A Tribe, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Knows About Monsterkind, Reader and Frisk Are Basically Siblings, Reader knows about SOULS, Reader-Insert, Sans Is Adorkble, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, Tribal Reader, but not a lot, long-haired reader, reader can use magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2019-11-23 08:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbrosiaOfStories/pseuds/AmbrosiaOfStories
Summary: By the world standards, you were considered damaged beyond repair. Never to go back to the way you once were. However, it never changed who you are. So, it came as no surprise to you that you find yourself falling down a giant hole and possibly befriending a giant goat lady. What does this mean for you as you discover the long-forgotten race of monsters and magic? And… how did a child get down here? You don’t know, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t help… Woah, what’s wrong with your SOUL…?





	1. Prologue: Ashen Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever, own(ed) the Undertale/Deltarune franchise. It respectfully belongs to Toby Fox.
> 
> Also, this is my first Undertale Fanfic, so critique is welcomed. I love reading Undertale fanfictions, and I've always wanted to try making one, so, here we are. Hope y'all enjoy!

...

 

_Prologue: Ashen Memories _

 

…

 

_The skies were the color of crimson blood._

_Cries and screams of mercy rang through your young ears as you pushed through the panicking crowd. The air was stifled with hazardous smoke and the grounds were warm from the fires as they ran rampart in the once beautiful city._

_You found yourself questioning why such a thing was happening to you. Your people. Your family._

_You were but a child and you would never,_ could never _, understand the implications and cost of war._

_…You **hated** it all the same._

_“Mama! Papa!” You screamed, hoping that your voice would be heard through the well of voices. You ignored the cries of other children, mourning over losing their parents. You ignored the weak gasps for help from the struggling survivors from a bomb or gunman…_

_You ignored the corpses of bodies surrounding you, as you trampled on their blood._

_Why didn’t you help them? You could’ve done something for them!_ _Why are you passing them as if they were pieces of trash on the street?!_ Why aren't you doing anything?!

**_Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitortraitortraitortraitor—!_ **

_“S-sis…?” A small, meek voice whimpered, breaking you from your hazardous thoughts. You looked behind you to see a little girl, smaller than you were, clinging onto you for dear life as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her short braided hair mussed up from all of the running, her pale lavender-colored dress fitted with a bow was nicked and torn in some places. Dirtied brown from the slick and mud they had to crawl through to escape from dangerous situations, her feet bare as she lost her shoes days ago in their escape to sanctuary._

_“What’s wrong Lóa?” You said, clutching your matted cloak closer to your body, hoping that the meager cloth would provide some sort of shield from the heated air. Your sister had one for herself as well, but it was of better quality that yours. You found it on… well…_

_It’s not like they needed it anymore…_

_“I-I’m scared,” Lóa hiccuped, tears dripping down her (s/c) cheeks as she squeezed your hand painfully. “Th-The bad m-men and getting c-closer and M-Mama and P-Papa aren’t here! I w-want Mama and P-Papa! I wanna g-go h-home!”_

_Your brows furrowed as your face morphed into a distressed expression, your heart breaking as your sister cried. You knew that you could never go back to your home, you knew that life would never be the same after you both survived this._

_…And deep down… you knew that you would never find your parents._

_You knelt down and hugged your sister close, rubbing her back as you cooed sweet nothings into her ear. Your sister was your everything now, and to see her hurt cause such deep wounds in your heart--your SOUL--that it damaged you beyond anything that this would throw at you._

_She was all you had left now._

_“Lóa,” you said softly as you put your hands on her little shoulders, “remember what Mama, Papa, and Nana always said? Always have HOPE. No matter what happens, never despair for there is always a silver-lining on the horizon. Okay?” You wiped her little tears off of her chubby cheeks, everything about her was so small, and stood up as you took her hand once more and led her out of the carnage._

_You absently noticed that the streets had cleared of the living and it was just you and your sister as you both trotted along in the damaged streets of your once beautiful homeland._

_You raised your head as you looked up at the sky. Plumage of smoke and the smell of ash and blood wafted around you like a thick, disgusting miasma. Your eyes hardened as you watched the distant blips of planes move away from the cries of your people._

_You had to hurry, the bombers would be back before dusk broke._


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam was a good friend if a bit hot to handle at times. But she meant well. But lately, you seemed drawn to a certain mountain... What is this tugging sensation that you feel in your SOUL...?

…

 

_ Chapter One: The Fall _

 

…

 

You woke up with a gasp.

 

You had jolted in bed, gasping like a drowned man desperately clawing for air, sweat beading down your face. Your hand was fixated on your heart, trying to calm it down by slowly breathing through your nose. And once you had calmed down to a decent amount, you flopped back down into bed as you lifted your arm over your face.

 

“…A nightmare…?” As you questioned yourself, you looked down at your left arm—well… where your left arm _would have_ been. “No, even worse… A memory.”

 

Your right arm tenderly grazed the scarred stump that ended at your elbow, before lifting the blanket off of your body. You sighed as you heard the telltale sound of your left leg thumping on the ground, and ran you hand along the also scarred stump of your right leg. You had lost a little more of it than your left arm; the stump of your right leg nearly coming close to your hip.

 

You had lost both of them, and your left eye in the war.

 

…You had also lost so much more than measly limbs, something that you could never get back.

 

You shook your head out of your despairing thoughts, and stretched as much as you could. “Time to go job hunting!” You cheered, as you reached over for your crutch and hauled yourself out of bed, hobbling over to the bathroom.

 

You opened the door and were greeted by a series of pulleys and handles to help you do your day-to-day living. You hobbled over to the first pulley that acted as a seat that was in front of the sink. Sighing in relief once seated, you began to meticulously wash your face, being mindful of the large, red burn-mark that encompassed your left eye.

 

Perhaps, in a different life without the scars and lacerations, you would’ve been considered beautiful.

 

“No time to dwell on the past,” you told yourself as you smiled sadly, “always keep HOPE, Y/N. Always keep HOPE.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Thank you very much, regardless.” You said politely, reaching out to shake the other woman’s hand. Said woman smiled nervously and gently—as though you were made of glass—shook it.

 

“A-Again, I apologize Miss L/N, b-but our qualifications just seem… a little _t-too much_ for you.” The woman immediately floundered as she tried to redact her statement, as though she had not directly insulted you and your disability. Perhaps if you were a lesser woman, you would have yelled at her for her unintentional jab, but you knew better. People made mistakes, and you were no exception.

 

You chuckled good-naturedly as the woman continued to flounder, going on about something along the line of “I’m sure you could do much of the same things as an abled-body person can!” which _did not_ help her case. You decided to show the interviewer a little mercy and stop her rambling by leaning over the table and patting her shoulder to snap her out of it.

 

“Miss Cunningham,” You interrupted her squabbling, “it’s quite alright. I know that you didn’t mean it, so it’s ok. I won’t take it to heart.” You reached for your crutch once you successfully calmed her, and began to slowly stand up. You saw, from the corner of your eye, Cunningham slightly flounder as to whether or not she should help up, but appreciated it when she didn’t.

 

You weren’t completely helpless after all. If you could make your way here, you could make your way back home as well.

 

Also, it must’ve been the fact that she felt as though helping you would’ve rubbed more salt into the wound from your dismal of a possible job here.

 

You bid her farewell and made your way outside and down the street towards your next interview. Your gaze would casually peruse along the streets and buildings of the city, watching the bustling of cars and people alike. You had moved to Ebott around five years ago, finally being able to be of age to live on your own once you made the decision. You had saved up money from that point on, doing odd jobs of all kinds despite your condition, and once you finally had enough—you jumped on the next plane to reside here.

 

It’s not like where you had lived previously was of any importance to you. It was where you _lived_ , not what you called _home_.

 

You blinked your thoughts away once you realized that you weren’t being “cozily” squished against other bodies when you had started your journey to your next appointment. So lost in your thoughts, you had realized that other pedestrians had made somewhat of a birth for you to walk through. They were still moving around, per say, however they had become aware of your presence from their “discrete” staring and their whispers as they took in your appearance.

 

And despite you wearing a professional attire—a white embroidered blouse covered by a sleek black jacket-suit, a black pencil skirt, some sleek black flats, and your long, (h/c) hair tied up into a neat ponytail. You even wore a nice black eye-patch over your damaged left eye—you still had a discriminating thought that _that_ wasn’t what they were looking at.

 

_It was just a hunch._

 

You blew a strand of hair out of your face, paying no mind to them as you continued forward. You didn’t blame them, humans were naturally curious creatures after all. It was both a blessing and a curse. You couldn’t help it if they stared at your misshapen body, whisper behind you back as they regarded you, move away from you as if you were some porcelain doll—as if the slightest touch from them would break you into thousands of pieces.

 

It didn’t matter to you. Your situation was dire, you admitted it to yourself countless times in the past and have learned to accept it along the way. You had learned to love yourself despite the odds against you, and never let your situation bring you down. You had pulleys all around your house to get you to and fro, place to place, without any help. Hell, you were even currently looking for a job despite your disability! And while technically you didn’t need one because of “Welfare”, you still wanted to work and provide your services to willing businesses.

 

You always liked to be on the go and didn’t like lazing about too much.

 

With that in mind, and your head held high, you continued on to your next interview. Being on-time was an attractive trait in the workforce after all.

 

* * *

 

 

You let out a SOUL-shattering sigh as you slumped into the armchair, you crutch resting beside you until further use.

 

Another interview done, another position rejected.

 

 _You know for business practices claiming “no discrimination”, they sure are showing a poor job of it…_ You thought bitterly as you took off your suit jacket with minor struggle. You were seated in a cozy little coffee shop after being rejected for the umpteenth time for a job position. You didn’t even want some pompous uppity job! Hell, the most you were applying for was menial labor positions like retail!

 

You pouted as you grumbled under your breath, your hand fiddling in your jacket pocket for your phone as you checked the time. It was bleeding into the evening so you still had a few hours of sunlight left. With a huff, you put your phone back in the pocket before you regarded the outside world from your place perched by the windowsill. Street lights were beginning to turn own as the color rust bled into the skies, buildings and cars illuminating with various lights that would serve to light the way in the coming night sky.

 

As you leaned against the window, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Ebott was. Even though it was a city out in the “boonies” by the country-in-which-it-resided's standards, there was a certain charm to it. Maybe it was the cozy feeling of it. Maybe it was how everything you needed was not even a mile away. Maybe it was the charming mountainous landscape in which surrounded it, giving it an earthy feel.

 

And speaking of mountains…

 

Your (e/c) eyes shifted from the city to the mountains. When you had first moved here, the first thing that people had warned you of was the mountains; particularly of Mt. Ebott. They had weaved throes of stories, fables, myths, and legends of strange happenings that would go on in the mountains. Spirits, demons, creatures of insane and unorthodox proportions…

 

People climbing the mysterious mountains were never to be seen or heard from again…

 

Rather than be afraid, you were fascinated by these tales. In your homeland, you had myths and legends about creatures as well. But instead of the evil, bloodthirsty beings that the locals had described; these creatures of your homeland were of the friendly, harmonious types. They lived in peace with your ancestors and traded a great many things with them, including skills of how to fend for oneself and the art of healing.

 

They were called “ _The Ástheiður_ ”, or _“the creatures of heath and/or love and affection”_. And for many centuries, they and your people had lived in relative harmony. However, one eve, they had all but vanished--leaving your ancestors confused and pondering on their disappearance. So, in honor of their camaraderie, your homeland had erected plagues and statues of various types of Ástheiður all over the place. Hospitals had Ástheiður of healing in front of them, to bless the patients for a swift recovery. Libraries had Ástheiður of knowledge, to bless the visitor of wisdom and discovery. And roles of leadership had Ástheiður of power, to bless those of a righteous mind and heart to lead their people to prosperity.

 

You wondered if there was a correlation of The Ástheiður and Ebott’s creatures somehow.

 

“How strange…” You whispered, as you regarded the mountain languidly. Perking up once a waitress had delivered your order. You thanked her with a smile and began to hum as the warm liquid of the coffee enraptured your senses.

 

You wondered what other mysteries that mountain seemed to hold…?

 

“Well, well, well!” A boisterous voice boomed as they called out to you. “If it isn’t the illusive Y/N gracing us with her benevolent presence! What brings you here o’ reclusive one?” You turned your head and chuckled as you saw a familiar, friendly face.

 

It was a pleasantly plump woman, with dark-skin and messy black curls, and a mischievous smile on her face that you knew all too well. She was wearing the typical barista outfit: a long green apron with the café’s logo in the middle of it, a black short-sleeved T-shirt, grey slacks, and black sneakers. She shifted the round, turtle-shelled glasses on her face as she regarded you with amusement.

 

This was your good friend Sam.

 

You had known her ever since you first moved to Ebott, when your curiosity of this new city was at its peak and you wanted to explore it more—whether it be for personal or professional reasons. And that was how you ended up at “Caffeine Haven”, a coffee shop that promoted relaxation, tranquility, and heaps of caffeine at its finest.

 

This place was so relaxed that they had a somewhat of a library, places to study with charging stations, and even had a corner dedicated to those who didn’t get enough sleep called _“The Napper’s Paradise”_. You were guilty of frequenting that place often.

 

In fact, this whole place was your favorite out of all of Ebott now that you think about it.

 

“To merely show you unfortunate fools on what _not_ to do when job-hunting. Be grateful.” You said with a chuckle as you upturned your nose at Sam, pretending you were a haughty woman with a superiority complex.

 

Sam laughed for a bit, before she took it upon herself to sit at your desk—not that you minded—and regarded you with a somewhat stern expression on her face. Oh, you knew that look. “No luck with the job hunt huh.” She said. It was not a question, it was a statement.

 

You sighed as you took a sip of your coffee. “What else is new? People can’t seem to look past _this_ ,” you flopped your useless stump around, the sleeve of your blouse waving haphazardly at the motion, “and see me for who I am. I’m not just some handicap that needs protection, I’m working citizen just like most people. I have a resume of past positions! It’s not like I _can’t_ work!” You huffed. Normally you wouldn’t blow up like this, you didn’t like getting angry. You hated the blood boiling under your skin as your temperature rose with your rage, that burst of adrenaline that came with it. The dizzying feelings you felt…

 

The power it gave you… You hated that feeling with a passion.

 

But you were a human. Feeling emotion, no matter how negative, was in your DNA. No matter how much you wished it weren’t.

 

Sam hummed, but she took your hand in her own and began to softly smooth over your knuckles. This was one of the tells to calm you down. Even when you were angry, you liked when you were in contact with someone else. It grounded you from doing something ridiculous or dangerous, and it always whittled your flame to an ember if they were gentle with their touch.

 

You took a few breaths to calm your agitated nerves, before patting Sam’s hand to let her know that you were ok. She did with a grunt, and linked her hands together as she regarded you with a curious expression. “Well c’mon girl,” She said, “I’m not goin’ anywhere. If you wanna vent, vent. I’ve got all night.”

 

You snorted as a mischievous twinkle alighted in your (e/c) eyes. “Don’t you have a café to run? It would be bad business if you just cozied up to a random customer in your shop. Just think of all the rumors~!”

 

Sam kicked you in your shin for your cheekiness—which _did_ **_not_** hurt and you _did **not**_ yelp in pain—and smirked. “I own the damn place, so I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I wanna hang out with one of my girlfriends, then I damn well will.” She stood up as she made her way towards the beanie bag chairs that sat near her library. “Now get ‘yer crippled ass over here and vent to ol’ Sam.”

 

You snorted out an unattractive laugh as you began to do just that. Sometimes, you appreciated Sam’s brashness. It made you feel happy that she treated you like everyone else and didn’t ruin her image of you with your disability.

 

She was a good friend.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well damn.”

 

“Mhm.” You hummed as you shimmied more into your beanbag chair as you drank your now cold coffee. It was past closing time, and only you and Sam were in the store as the night sky and its beautiful stars twinkled in the background. Sam’s café also doubled as a flat as she lived just upstairs. Perks of living in the city, you thought.

 

You had just told her what had happened at all of your job interviews today, and that out of the seven interviews you had went to, all seven rejected you in under thirty minutes. Some were nice and flustered easily as they didn’t know how to deal with someone of your “situation”, while others were less… accommodating.

 

Needless to say, you didn’t like those people very much.

 

Neither did Sam. Sam didn’t like them **_at all_**. She also had a few colorful words to say about them.

 

Sam sighed and sunk into her bean-bag, and you followed suit after putting your cup away on a nearby table. You both stared out of the large window which housed the outside world, the lights of the city night-life being your company.

 

“You know,” she began as she tilted her head your way, eyes not moving from the window, “you could always work here.”

 

You rolled your eyes. You knew where this was going. You’ve had this conversation many times before and will probably have it many more times. “You got any positions available.”

 

She was silent.

 

“Sam,” you struggled as you shifted over on your side to regard her. She followed suit with a pouty expression on her face. “I’m grateful for what you’re doing, you know I am, but we both know that you don’t have any jobs for me. You have a popular place of business, students and adults alike always clamor to have a job here. It’s the _perfect_ place with the _perfect_ atmosphere.”

 

Sam preened slightly at the praise, but you had to rain on her parade. “But you know my conditions. If I don’t have a job currently, and you don’t have a lot of employees on hand, then I’ll help out when I need to. Okay?”

 

“You always say that and it never comes true! You know that Y/N!” She huffed angrily before she stood up and began pacing. “I _always_ have enough employees and they’re _always_ here! You know that it’ll never happen! Why are you like this?! _Why can’t you let me help you?!_ ”

 

You watched your friend work herself up, pulling on her curly black mane, tears started to sprinkle in her eyes and began fogging up her glasses. You hated causing anyone distress, and you hated it even more when you are the cause of distress. Sam is a no-nonsense havin', friendly yet strict woman. She had a mean right-hook from that time you watched her sock a drunkard right in the nose, and she loved children almost obsessively. She didn’t show her emotions often, she was a stern woman after all, but when she did, it was either heart-warming or gut-wrenching.

 

You grunted as you began to pull yourself up from your soft seat with your crutch. It was a little harder than normal since the bean-bag wasn’t firm, but you managed. You hobbled over to Sam, who watched you with pursed lips, and leaned against her in a pathetic pseudo-hug. She hugged you back almost immediately, squeezing your ribs in a painful hold but you didn’t mind.

 

“Sam, I’m not helpless.” You heard her suck in a breath of air, but you cut her off before she could retort. “I know that you don’t think so, but I can see it in your expressions you know. You’re such an open book it’s almost hilarious.” You chuckled and laughed harder when you heard her snort and hit your back as retribution.

 

“I’m critically disabled,” You stated bluntly. You felt her fingernails dig into your back at the words. “I’m not stupid or naïve. I know how this world views me, how _people_ view me.” You closed your eyes and sighed, nuzzling into the woman’s ebony-skinned neck. She smelled like strawberries. “But I am an _adult_ , **not** a child. Despite my condition, I can wake up, move around, cook and clean, use the bathroom, hail a cab, and pay for things all on my own.”

 

You leaned back and looked into your friend’s watery eyes. She looked defeated yet proud at the same time. “I’ll be ok, Sam. I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman, and for sixteen years, I’ve been this way. Trust me when I say that I have _a lot_ of experience being a leech on society. Also being crippled.” You watched as she let out a watery laugh and started to wipe her eyes for any stray tears.

 

“N-Not to mention a h-hardheaded fool that doesn’t know when t-to stop.” Sam quipped.

 

You grinned mischievously. “Hey! Your husband’s not _that_ bad!” She laughed as she hit you upside of your head and you both had a good laugh about it.

 

When push comes to shove, you could always trust good ol’ Sam.

 

* * *

 

 

You huffed as you hobbled along the pathway carved by the the many footsteps before you, looking around at the beauty of the trees and the songs of the birds that greeted you as you ventured along in the mountainous forest.

 

A few weeks had past since your heart-to-heart with Sam, and you two had grown past the incident and went back to as if nothing had happened. You still applied and went to interviews for potential jobs, failed once they took a look at you, and went to your favorite café to gripe and huff to your friend. She was there as she consoled you, cursed your interviewers from missing out on a “bomb-ass person like you”, and bid your farewells to do it all over again.

 

Sometimes you would stay over at her place and hang out with her and her husband, Zachery (he was a tall, buff man that trademarked the “man of few words” gimmick. He was a sweet and friendly man once you got to know him, but wouldn’t hesitate to throw you out into the street if you messed with his wife), and have sleepovers as you both gossiped about the latest things. Or they would come over to your place, help you around a bit, or have a sleepover as well.

 

However, lately you couldn’t get a certain mountain out of your mind the past few months. You had been feeling a pull, almost a tugging sensation, towards the mysterious Mt. Ebott, and you didn’t know how to feel. Almost as if…

 

…your SOUL was telling you something.

 

You huffed as you felt another tugging sensation on your sternum. You stopped your hike, rubbed at the spot in slight annoyance, before looking around. The lush green fields and immovable rocks of the mountains greeted you during your expedition. A few curious foxes and birds regarding you for but a moment before they scampered off to who knows where.

 

You took in a deep breath of the crisp air and shivered a bit as a passing wind curled through your body. From the nippiness of the winds and the yellowing of the leaves, fall would soon be about Ebott City. Good thing you were dressed for the occasion.

 

You wore a long loose-fitting, cream-colored poncho with a grey long-sleeved, tight-fitting shirt; some black sweatpants and a running sneaker that would do good for the outdoors. Your poncho was thick and fluffy enough to protect you from the chill of the mountain as well as your sweatpants. You grunted as you re-adjusted your brown-leathery satchel, and continued forward; your French-braided hair curled over your shoulder like a make-shift scarf of some sort.

 

You had decided to finally visit the mountain after months of ignoring your wandering SOUL to see why there was such mystery and fear surrounding the great mountain. However, before you went, you decided to do some investigations.

 

You went to numerous libraries, pursuing over various history books with mentions of the mountain; asked historians or memorabilia enthusiasts about said mountain, and even people who practiced in the “supernatural” or “unorthodox” to hear their say.

 

Yet all were unanimous in their verdict: **_“the mountain housed evil beings, and to stay away from it”._**

 

Some stated that demons lived there and how you could hear their ghastly howls at night, some say that those who went there never returned and their spirits haunts whoever dares to venture into the mountains.

 

Some spoke of beings called _monsters_ , and were evil incarnates, waiting for some unfortunate soul to feast upon…

 

“What a load of _naut*_.” You grumbled, cursing in your native tongue. You have met humans worse than these so called “demons and monsters” and lived through their tortures.

 

You highly doubted they would be worse than most people.

 

You carried on with purpose, stopping every once and a while for a break or to just regard nature. Due to the position of the sun, it caste beautiful rivers of sunlight in the canopies of the trees, displaying a scene not unlike something in a grandiose art piece. It reminded you of your homeland, and how despite the long winter months, the change of the seasons was the most beautiful there.

 

Your melancholic thoughts put you in a bittersweet somber mood, and you decided that it would be best to stop for some snacks. You spied a large boulder, low enough for you to sit on, before making you way over to it. Once you sat down and lowered your crutch onto its side, you adjusted the strap of your satchel with your hands before digging inside for the trail-mix and sandwiches you made.

 

You looked over in your bag as you took a bite of a sandwich. Besides your snacks, you had two bottles of water, your phone and wallet, some first-aid tools just in case you tumbled, and a switch-blade for protection.

 

You felt a chill in your lower back that caused you to shiver, goosebumps trailing up from there to your arm. That… was an unnatural place for the wind to blow. Usually wind currents were massive enough to effect majority of a subject’s mass than just a particular area. Even thinner ones.

 

You quickly put away your things, hoisted yourself up, before deciding to follow the strange draft of wind. “Huh.” You mumbled as now the draft only affected your ankle. “How strange… I wonder wh— _Oh my stars_.”

 

A hole.

 

A _giant_ hole.

 

You stumbled back a little as you regarded the sheer massiveness that was this hole in the side of Mt. Ebott. It was so dark that you couldn’t even see the bottom! You hummed before slowly bending down to grab a decent-sized rock and shucking it into the abyss. You listened.

 

…

 

….

 

…..

 

…….

 

_twing!_

 

You gulped and took another cautious step back.

 

That rock fell for a full three minutes before it final hit the bottom. If the inky blackness wasn’t frightening enough, then the depth and amount of time it took the rock to hit the bottom surely solidified that fear.

 

“Why isn’t there any fencing or barbed wires or caution signs…” You muttered before sighing as you come to your conclusion as fast as you ask that question. “Right… Superstitions and all of that _rusl_ *.” Granted, they should’ve still put some precautionary tape around the hole for safety reasons.

 

You regarded the hole one last time before turning around and making our way back. However, before you could hobble your first step, you heard a _snap_ and felt the ground give under you causing you to jerk from the sudden motion. You screamed as the ground gave completely away causing you to fall back and go soaring into the black abyss that greeted you.

 

Your screams swallowed by the whipping winds as it got _dark_ …

 

… _Dark_ …

 

… _Yet darker_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ástheiður — Means “Creatures of love, heath, and prosperity” in the Faroese culture.
> 
> Naut* — Means “bull” or bullshit” in Icelandic
> 
> Rusl* — Means “rubbish” or “hogwash” in Icelandic


	3. Ancient Hymn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You roll in some flowers, meet a flower, and a Giant Goat Woman finds and abducts you.
> 
> Oh, and you figured out an age old question.

…

 

_ Chapter Two: Ancient Hymn _

 

…

 

_The giggles and screams of children filled the air as they all rushed around the great bonfire to sit at the elders’ feet. The nightly air was crisp and dry as winter took over, the soft fall of snow silent outside of the Great Hall where the stories of old was about to take place._

_The children, all bundled up in their traditional cloaks and tunics, kicked off their snow-shoes as they excitedly waited for the stories to begin. Their parents tutting chastely at their behavior, but letting it slide with mirth as they too sat behind their kids to regard the elders with respect._

_One of the rowdy kids was you as you beamed and laid down with the others, forming a pile of squishy bodies as you protectively draped an arm over your younger sister as she laid next to you._

_The Elder and Chieftain, Xêna, cleared her throat and the hall immediately called for silence. She had olive skin and braided white locks which were adorned by a headdress decorated with many soft, beautiful feathers cocktailing out in a gorgeous display of color. Her royal blue, ankle-length, linen dress fluttered about as she stood to address the crowd; her furred-cloak made of bear-fur providing her warmth, with her leathered-_ hangerock _* lighting up in the firelight. Her necklace of small animal bones jangled as she moved, her smiled reflected by the pierced sliver-fangs in her bottom lips._

_“My children, tonight we tell you a tale not unlike the others,” her raspy voice boomed across the hall, carrying out throughout the tribe. Her distinctive, red-painted, wolf fangs remarkable on her cheeks for those whom couldn’t see well. “We shall tell you a tale of death and war, discovery and prosperity, as well as love and friendship.”_

_She walked over to the children with her wood-carven cane, and bent down as she ruffled the hair of a few children, including you. They all giggled and kissed her hand in response. A sign of respect and admiration in your tribe._

_“Tonight,” Xêna smiled as her eyes particularly landed on you, your eyes glowing in awe. “We will tell you the tale of our fallen brethren,_ The Ástheiður _, and how they have saved our tribe at the expense of their freedom.”_

 

* * *

 

 

You gasped as you sat up before vomiting over on your side. Your stomach cramping painfully—as if your abdomen was pin-cushioned by tiny knives—as you upheaved whatever sludge was coming out of it. Tears blotted your vision in your sickly act, making you feel even more miserable than you already were.

You groaned once you finished and slightly scooted away from your mess. The rancid smell of vomit making your nose crinkle in disgust, but you were too sore to pay much mind to it. Your eyes were hazy as you scanned your surroundings with your body trembling uncontrollably. The giant hole, from which you fell, greeted your vision high above—the grassy plains of the mountains dotting along its edges, sunlight penetrating through the damning abyss as it bathed you in warm light.

 

It looks so far away now…

 

You fell a _long_ way…

 

You grunted as you began to sit up, hissing in pain from the act but managed all the same. From what you could see you had small lacerations on your arm, torso, and good leg.

 

You pressed your ribs to check for anything broken. “Just a little soreness,” you grunted as you winced. “Thank the stars…”

 

You slowly blinked as you noticed that you had landed upon a bed of beautifully golden flowers. As the sun hit them, they seemed to glow in response and emitted a few white particles into the air that created a gorgeous display of light. You softly brushed your hand against one’s petals and your eyebrows rose at the fluttery softness. Their stalks were unusually strong for a flower as well, almost wooden-like.

 

It was as if they were made of… **_magic_** …

 

You huffed as you shook your head of the silly notion. Perhaps that fall screwed with your head a little more than you thought. You hoped that it wasn’t anything permanent.

 

Your head swiveled this way and that to look to see if anything feel with you. Your satchel was still looped around your shoulders if a little roughed up. You groaned at your destroyed sandwich that was to your far right, lamenting the waste of food. And your crutch was…?

 

You sighed as you spotted it. It was all the way to the left of you, near the cave’s(?) wall. “Of course you would be over there…” You groused. Carefully surveying the area around you, you noticed a little dip in the sturdy bed of flowers that would easily slide you near your faithful equipment. With a toss and a turn you rolled down the dip, garbling incomprehensible words in your tumble, before grunting as you landed on the dirt below with mild impact.

 

Flower petals stuck to your clothes and you could feel a few stowaways in your hair. A chuckle escaped your throat as you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous situation you landed yourself in, but besides that you made no effort to get rid of the flowery sweeties. You liked to think that they made you pretty.

 

With a fire in your (e/c) eyes, you began your arduous journey towards your crutch with a medium-paced crawl. Despite what others may think, you were a fast crawler for someone with such a critical disability. You were experienced as you have lost your crutch or a cane many times before. You could proudly say that you could out-crawl a baby.

 

Belting out a noise of victory as you grabbed your support, you slowly began to stand yourself up—using the caves walls to help you hoist yourself as you leaned against it.

 

Once you were stable, you began to take full stock of your surroundings.

 

The bed of golden beauties took up most of your vision as soon as you landed on them. They were taller than you imaged—taller than you—and you were correct to assume that they were bulkier than normal flowers. Their stems were thick and sturdy, so it made sense that a condensed cluster of them would cushion your fall.

 

Looking up you could see the hole but you also saw pieces of rubble and debris as if from a building. Broken columns merged and meshed with the soil and walls of the cavern, worn red tiles scattered amongst the vines coiling around the place as well as the ground; rotted wood of timber serving as home for fungi and smaller organisms as the nature took over.

 

Despite the decay, rot, and dilapidation, you couldn’t help but find it beautiful.

 

“ _Af stjörnunum*_ , where am I?” You whispered as you hobbled around the cluster of flora, stopping to give them thanks before moving on. You perked up as you found a Romanesque entryway, its rich purple color catching you off guard, and began to make your way towards it. “No use in waiting around… perhaps there is an exit in this place.”

 

As you passed the entryway, the room you entered was much, much darker than the cavern from which you fell in. It didn’t have the charm of the golden flowers you mysteriously gave off their own light, it didn’t have the beauty of the ancient decaying columns and scraps of building...

 

It didn’t seem to have **_life_**.

 

Just a single mound of upturned soil with a small growth of green grass in its center. And _a single yellow flower_ sitting in its middle.

 

Your senses were going haywire.

 

You knew that something was off about this particular place, but you couldn’t identify _what_. But you were _far_ from naïve. You have lived and grown in times of war, watched comrades and loved ones die, and witness the destruction of life by epic proportions. You were born in a hunters’ tribe. A _warrior’s_ tribe. A tribe who lived, survived, and **_thrived_** in the harshest of climates. Where the strong were birthed, and the even stronger lived.

 

If your heart, mind, and SOUL said something was amiss…

 

_ You damn well listened. _

 

**_*You were filled with…something…_ **

 

Your expression hardened as you took a cautionary step inside the room. The hairs on your neck raised high as you slowly trotted in, your eyes razor sharp as you focused on anything and everything. Though your good hand was preoccupied in gripping your crutch to help you move, you were dexterous enough to thumb your satchel and twiddle with your switchblade.

 

 _Just in case…_ You thought.

 

You liked to think that you wouldn’t harm anyone even if you were angered. You would be very cross with them yes, and most definitely give them a verbal whipping with your silver tongue. But unfortunately, the fates dealt you a losing hand and you had to be cautious nowadays. You were kind to others and treated all with respect, however there was a fine limit to your trust so you mostly kept to yourself. Sam and Zachery were and are the only exception as you could trust them immensely.

 

Perhaps not _wholeheartedly_ , but it was leagues above everyone else.

 

You physically jerked as you were distracted out of your thoughts and sharply faced the flower in front of you. You were close to passing it when something, some sort of energy perhaps, slammed into you that screamed at you to be on guard.

 

And right you were in your actions as the flower…

 

…Had a face…?

 

…And was staring at you…

 

Your heart leaped in your chest at the utterly weird and usual occurrence happening before you. You showed no outwardly emotion—still maintaining your hard visage—but inwardly you were a tad ( **a lot** ) freaked out. You seemed to have startled it slightly with your abrupt emotion, it flinching slightly as its smiling countenance faltered slightly before perking right back up.

 

You felt a little bad that you sacred it but…

 

It’s a fucking flower…

 

_With a fucking face…!_

 

Before you could comment, the flower beat you to the punch and chirped excitedly as it greeted you. “Howdy!” It cheered as it waved you with its little leaves. Cute. “I’ve never seen you around here before! I’m Flowey, Flowey the Flower!”

 

You raised your brow at the creature, calming down slightly from your minor freak-out. However, your senses were still taunt with worry so you stayed on guard. You hobbled a tad closer ~~(Flowey watching your every move with curiosity)~~ and gave an easy smile at the sentient flora.

 

“Hello to you too Flowey, my name is Y/N.” You gave him (?)—you assumed it was a he from the apparent baritone in its voice—a nod in acknowledgement as you couldn’t quite shake his han—err, leaf.

 

Flowey noticed your predicament and for a split moment you caught something flicker in his black eyes. You felt your jaw tighten in response. Despite his little grin, you knew that something was _off_ about this flower.

 

“Nice to meet you new best friend Y/N!” He gave you an exaggerated wink and you blinked as you watched a speck of white come out of his eye. Flowey’s expression soon morphed into concern as he took in your appearance. “But gosh, you sure do look hurt! Are you alright?”

 

You chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m quite alright, just a tad sore.” You looked around, playing the innocent bystander, as you spoke. “But can you tell me where I am? I kind of fell down here on my hike up the mountain.”

 

His expression shifted so drastically in such a short amount of time that it caused you great discomfort. “Why of course! You’re in The Underground! The place were monsters and magic live!” He giggled, covering his mouth with his leaves. “Golly, you must be so confused! Guess little ol’ me will have to teach you how it goes around here huh?”

 

You felt a harsh tugging in your chest where your sternum was before your world was suddenly bathed in inky black darkness. The natural winds, the faint chirping of birds, and the distant rushing of water all faded away—as if they were sucked into a heedless void of nothingness.

 

You yelped as apparitions of light suddenly filled your panicked vision before settling into more solidified forms. They seemed to be floating words. Four were shaded and surrounded by four boxes in a tiger orange color—the words _FIGHT_ , _ACT_ , _ITEM_ , and _MERCY_ were at the forefront—while the rest were colored in a rich white.

 

A large white box appeared between you and Flowey—who was strangely awashed with white as well—with a small colored, cartoonish heart appeared floating in the middle. It looked comical, floating there before you, yet you felt an overwhelmingly strong attachment to that heart.

 

You felt nervous with it being out.

 

You blinked as another white box, much smaller than the larger one, appear directly in front of you as words began to appear in it in a typewriter-esque fashion.

 

**Flowey**

**LV     9**

**HP     80**

**AT     7**

**DF     25**

 

**_*He’s Flowey! Flowey the Flower! He’s your very best friend!_ **

****

**_*…_ **

****

**_ *Don’t trust him. _ **

 

You decided to heed the weird text and take its advice.

 

You regarded him with the utmost caution as he continued to speak. Your digits lightly grazing your concealed knife to reassure yourself of its presence. “You see that little heart there? That’s your _SOUL_ , the very culmination of your being!” You winced at that, your eyes widening as you gained an epiphany. “Your SOUL starts off weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.”

 

“What’s LV?” You asked the plant, easy smile still in place despite your nerves.

 

Flowey’s grin seemed to stretch before he did a wiggly jig as he answered. “Why, _LOVE_ , of course! LOVE can help with a lot of things, even healing ya!” Suddenly small, white, rounded objects materialized from thin air around the flower. Your skin prickled as you felt the hum of its energy. “And down here, LOVE is spread through little, white _friendliness_ pellets!”

 

Flowey suddenly gained this eerie look in his eyes as his grin stretched further as he regarded your SOUL. “And with a SOUL like yours, I’m sure you’ll feel right as rain once ya get them all! Granted, I’ve **_never_** seen a SOUL like yours before, but I’m sure it’ll all work out!” He did that little wink of his again as he stuck his tongue out, that same speck of white (you think it was a tiny star?) fluttering out of his eye.

 

The pellets began to spin as they slowly began to head for your colored heart. “Are you ready?” You were _not_. “Move around! Get as many as you can!”

 

Despite having seen it for the first time in your life, you knew that this little heart was important to you. And from how intense Flowey was staring at it, you knew that you were in danger and this flower was not to be trusted. From what you could tell from his speech alone, he has seen SOULs like yours—human souls—before and it was so blatantly unique that you noticed how drastically his demeanor was shifting. This was enough reason to cause you panic.

 

You hobbled a step backwards, your SOUL following your movement and dodging the pellets as they came at it. Once you missed them, you watched as Flowey’s expression became flat. “Hey buddy, you missed them.” He perked up again as he summoned more _friendliness pellets_. “Let’s try this again, okay?”

 

You dodged once again.

 

“Are you braindead?” Flowey hissed, his face pinching into one of irritation. His little leaves shaking with barely repressed anger. “ _RUN. INTO. THE. ~~BULLETS~~_ —friendliness pellets.”

 

You scoffed.

 

Now you sure as hell wouldn’t run into those things.

 

You dodged once again.

 

Suddenly, the little flower’s face morphed into something horrifying, something demonic. His eyes enlarged and his previously black pupils were painted white as his sclera flooded with black. His previously happy grin grew elongated fangs as his lips stretched far up, near his creepy eyes.

 

 _“You know what’s going on here, don’t you?”_ His cutesy tone was replaced by raspy wheezing. His baritone deepened to unnatural proportions. “ _You just wanted to see me suffer.”_

 

A shiver went up your spine.

 

You heard the sound of something pinging and your eyes widened once you saw that your little heart, your SOUL, was surrounded by those white bullets with no escape. You panicked and tried to shift your heart, but if you got to close to a bullet, it would teasingly jump out and cause you to shift away to safety.

 

You didn’t touch them but from the unusual energy—magic, you thought subconsciously—you knew that if you touched those things that it would severely hurt your SOUL.

 

 _“In this world,”_ Flowey hissed like a viper, _“It’s **KILL** or **BE KILLED**!”_ He shifted and the pellets began to move ever closer to your SOUL. Sweat began to bead on your neck as you commanded your cartoony heart to move away from danger as much as you could, but you knew that you would be severely hurt in the end. You felt for your switchblade and glared at the little weed as you began to slowly pull it out. Despite your adverse feelings on the subject, you would heed the weed’s words and perform the act yourself if it meant for your survival.

 

You weren’t ready to die. Not yet.

 

_ You refused to. _

 

* * *

 

Flowey saw a flash of silver in his peripheral vision, and he watched as you slowly began to pull out what looked like a blade. _Interesting…_ He thought with malicious glee, his demonic grin curling as he met your glare head on.

 

When he first met you, he didn’t know what to think. When he woke up, he noticed that the timeline had changed and time had gone back. He was confused as he, nor the kid, had changed anything in the timeline they were in previously. So, he went to investigate his findings throughout The Underground.

 

By the normal monsters’ standards, nothing had changed and they went about their day-to-day meanderings. Their SOULs filled with HOPE despite their miserable situation.

 

But to the former prince, there was _drastic_ change.

 

Monsters who normally went one direction, chose another path. Shops that were previously foreclosed, were open. Monsters who wore the same attire day-in and day-out, were dressed in something completely different.

 

He even checked on the smiley trashbag and his brother ~~(of course from a safe distance)~~ , that lazy bag of bones was as put out and panicked as he was. Of course, he hid it well, but the flower knew that he knew something was in the air.

 

And it wasn’t _right_.

 

So, when he burrowed his way back to the Ruins to go back to his post, he heard footsteps.

 

He popped up just in time to see _you_.

 

Another human…

 

…An _adult human_ …

 

_Oh, this would be fun._

 

Just as he morphed his face, to scare his new plaything, you suddenly snapped your attention to him and looked him in the eyes before he could surprise you. He jolted in fright for only a moment before he settled back down.

 

That… _surprised_ him.

 

He went over his usually spiel, but now with a little more caution. Even Cha—err, _Frisk_ wasn’t _that fast_ at noticing his presence. And they have been playing this song-and-dance for _a while_ now.

 

Oh, you were talking to him. Introducing yourself from what he could tell. He was a little put-out from it—used to the kid’s silence—but he supposed that most humans would be curious about where they are. Bunch of idiots. But he took this time to actually look you over as he answered.

 

You were… a critically hurt human.

 

Missing two limbs and an eye from what he could see.

 

Needed some sort of staff…? Cane…? Well, whatever it was to help you up.

 

Malicious glee flashed in his eyes at the revelation.

 

You were _helpless_. Much more than that goody-goody two-shoes Frisk.

 

…Is what he _thought_ at first.

 

But as he interacted with you more and more, following his script with little variation due to your inquisition, he deduced that you were in fact **not** helpless. You were always on guard around him—for good reason, he thought—and you had a noteworthy poker-face as you took his words in stride. If he were a stupidly gullible monster like the rest of these idiots down here, he wouldn’t suspect a thing about your behavior.

 

But he wasn’t. And that just made the conversation that much sweeter.

 

You were smart. You were clever. You twisted his words to your own and always deflected back to him to obtain more information.

 

And when it got to the grand finale of his final act, you were slightly panicked, but you _weren’t scared_. Your glare was hardened like indomitable steel as you gazed upon him and his treachery. And from the blade in your hands, he knew that you would FIGHT him even if you were at a great disadvantage.

 

So, as he let the Ruins Keeper, Toriel, play her part in banishing him to the darkness; he only had one thought as his burrowed his way out of the room towards his escape.

 

_See you soon, new best friend Y/N~_

 

* * *

 

 

You watched with shock, surprise, and relief (and a little bit of triumphant pettiness) as _Flowey the Damn Flower_ yelped as he went sailing across the room from a fireball attack.

 

You quickly turned around to see a lar—no, **_giant_** Goat Woman rushing to your aid as the orange flames in her paws(?) quickly subsided to low embers before fizzling out. Her fur was as white as freshly fallen snow, and her droopy ears slightly perked up once she regarded you with worry on her muzzle. Her fangs, rather small and cute for a woman of her large stature, furrowed into a frown before gasping and her long eyelashes glittering with tears of sorrow. Despite her deep red eyes, you could tell that they were genuine in their concern for you. Her long purple robes with white sleeves fluttered gracefully as she hurried over to you and gently brushed upon you as she firmly yet gently gripped your shoulders.

 

“O-Oh, my _gracious stars_! You poor child!” The eight-foot tall woman gently scooped you up and began to hurry in the direction from whence she came. She was uncannily strong as she only carried you with one arm as she carried your crutch with the other. “Do not worry my child. While you are critically injured, I will do my best to heal you.”

 

You were thankful for the woman’s concern, and while you were embarrassed of being held like a babe again you couldn’t help but regard the symbol in the middle of her robe. It had an orb between two wings and three triangles beneath it, with the middle triangle inverted.

 

Your eyes widened as it finally clicked.

 

* * *

 

 

 _You watched with stars in your eyes as The Chieftain Xêna danced gracefully despite her age and despite the heated coal at her feet. This was a sacred tradition in your tribe: On the day of the Blood Moon, when Luna is voracious and hungry, and the tides of_ Neptúnus _* was strong; the elders sang the songs of olde to honor our ancestors and those of the fallen._

_Her raspy and aged voice rang out as she banged upon the_ Shamanic _drum*._

_ “Gracious rulers, gracious creators, whom live in Luna’s blood; _

_ Rejoice and sing, rejoice and sing, as we honor our pact; _

_ Cry and weep, cry and weep as our comrades’ tears flood; _

_ We rage, we fight, we battle, we die as we wish for those whomsoever we lost back; _

_ Humans, Fae, and Ástheiður—we are your children as we heed your words; _

_ Send us on our quests, our journeys to join you, as we walk amongst your trends; _

_ Our hands will clasp, our SOULs will beat as fast as the song birds; _

_ The angel’s guidance, the devil’s trickery, all in the Delta Rune as we follow it to our ends.” _

_Your clan, your tribe, your people clapped and rejoice once the last line was belted from the elders’ mouth, and you all got up as one to sing more songs of olde as the festivities continued._

_You and your sister laughed as you both sang and danced horribly with the rest of the children whom were skipping around the Great Bonfire._

 

* * *

 

 

As you looked at the giant goat woman, after staring at the symbol for so long, the pieces finally connected themselves. Arranging themselves from a complex jumble of chaotic shapes, into a single, unified piece that was as easy to understand as it was beautiful.

 

You had landed in the world of Monsters and Magic yes, but you had also stumbled upon the civilization of the creatures whom your tribe was so involved, cared for, and befriended centuries ago.

 

You had landed in the world of The Ástheiður, your peoples' most sacred brethren.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh, I saids I was gonna update another chapter in May, but I had a brain blast and this chapter came out early. So enjoy it my children, your wait was not in vain~
> 
> Next, next chapter will be in May though lol.
> 
>  
> 
> *Hangerock--A dress or apron, often wider at the bottom than at the top, held up by straps passing from the back to the front over the shoulders, common in the Viking era and at other times and typically worn over another, longer dress.
> 
> *Af stjörnunum--means "By/Of the stars," in Icelandic.
> 
> *Neptúnus--means "the god of water and of the sea" in Icelandic
> 
> *Shamanic Drums--an ancient drumming technique that uses rhythm to promote healing and self-expression.


	4. Goat Mom Really Is Best Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You bond somewhat with Goat Mom and meet Void Dad.
> 
> You think that they're wonderfully precious monsters.

 

…

 

_ Chapter Three: Goat Mom Really Is Best Mom _

 

…

 

The Goat Woman was fast for her lumbering height.

 

 ** _Very_** fast.

 

You yelped as the Giant Woman—whom was named Toriel as you found out—easily leaped over another herald of spikes, which you nervously found out that there was a lot of them in this place, in her quest to get you to safety and heal you. You tried multiple times to tell her that you were fine, just a little sore from the fall, and that you’ve had this condition for a long time; but the woman just looked even more distressed by your omission and rushed even faster.

 

Though, you thought guiltily, it was nice being doted on as though you were a child again. Stars above, you never knew that you missed this sort of contact until Toriel held you in her giant nurturing paws.

 

So, you relegated yourself to take in as much of the scenery as you could. Which wasn’t much since the world blurred from the lady’s dizzying speed. But from what you could see, it was a very purple place with many things decorated in Greek and Corinthian-style. The stark white of the columns, archways, and statues as well as the lilac coloration of the walls shouldn’t go together; yet somehow, in this place, they do in a rather tasteful manner.

 

You also saw some larger organisms—other monsters, you assumed—meandering about, and watching with curiosity as Toriel carted you away from them. You couldn’t contain your excitement at seeing more Ástheiður—erm, _Monsters_ , and you would try to look over Toriel’s shoulder whenever you both passed by one.

 

But from Toriel’s light scolding and the way she nuzzled your head to stay down, that it was unsafe for you to do so. You blushed every time you felt her soft snout incessantly nuzzle the top of your head as she herded you into her generous bosom. I felt nice, but it was rather embarrassing. You weren’t a kitten for stars sake!

 

You sighed as you relented to Toriel’s whims. _She’s a rather forward woman, if a little clingy…_ You thought as you glanced up at the giant goat. Her expression was stern and taunt with determined focus as she sprinted along.

 

Well, you didn’t mind. You were rather tired from all of your walking today.

 

…

 

You gave a grunt as you groggily woke up, unaware that you had fallen asleep in Toriel’s arms. As you shook out the cobwebs in your brain, you noticed that Toriel had decelerated from a sprint to a brisk walk as she made her away through the cave? Hmm, _ruins_ was more like it since you saw deterioration in some of the architecture in this place.

 

You perked up as you both made your way towards a sort of house. It had a looming ashen black tree in the center of the yard, with vermillion rose petals scattered beautifully along its roots. The house upon closer inspection was actually built into the walls of the ruins. There was a bricked doorway with a silver plague, words written in a language that you did not know inscribed on it, as well as two bricked windows with dark curtains concealing the inside of the house. There wasn’t any glass built into them.

 

Toriel opened the door and veered sharply to the right once inside, and opened the tawny-colored door on her immediate left. It was a children’s room from what you could see, a bed with fluffy red blankets and fluffy cream-white pillows was off to the left, a large oaken wardrobe on its right, a dresser filled with books on its shelves and pictures on its top, and two lamps in both corners of the room. Large stuffed animals were sitting patiently on the bed and drawings of flowers we on the walls near the dresser.

 

Truly, it was a cozy room fit for a cozy child.

 

Toriel tromped over to the bed, and after pushing away the stuffed animals, gently settled you on it. She put your crutch near the wardrobe—just out of reach, you noticed bitterly—and began fussing over you as she checked for injuries.

 

“Oh dear, oh me,” She fretted worriedly, beginning to take off your poncho (with willing aid from you) and assess the damage. “I-I have never had a child so h-hurt before in all my years. I will do my best to heal you dearest.” As she laid her large paws upon your abdomen, a hearty green glow permeated around her paws and began to slowly ooze into you.

 

At first, you were slightly panicked from the glow, but you immediately settled down as the miasma of green emitted feelings of safety, concern, and motherly warmth into your battered body. Gradually, the soreness and aching from your fall into The Underground began to ebb, and only a warm fuzzy feeling remained.

 

Your jaw cracked as you gave a mighty yawn once the green glow, the _magic_ left you. Feeling unbearably tired for some reason.

 

The older woman tutted, almost glaring at your permanent injuries for existing. But she sighed once she saw that you were barely awake, hanging onto consciousness by a thread, and allowed herself to sit down beside you and watch over you.

 

“I have done all I can do dearest child,” she hesitantly held out a paw, as if she was nervous that you would reject her touch, but smiled brilliantly once you guided her paw towards your head and let her stroke you. You figured that the woman was very lonely from her motherly demeanor and clinginess, and figured that she wouldn’t cause you any harm unlike Flowey.

 

You would put your trust in her for now.

 

“Go to sleep now my child,” she smiled softly as she watched you close your eyes, drifting off into the land of dreams. “I will be here when you wake.”

 

And sleep you did.

 

* * *

 

 

_You felt yourself floating. But it felt as if you were underwater._

_As you slowly opened your eyes, you found yourself encompassed by all-consuming darkness. Even as you tilted your head left and right, inky blackness would greet you._

_You blinked slowly, your movements impeded by some force, and raised your good hand to your face. The pressure that was forced upon your arm felt like that of the malleable substance of water, or thick creamy foam. You breathed in and out slowly, glad that nothing liquid-like obstructed your breathing._

_You watched as your long hair floated around you, like a wispy halo of (h/c), as you floated aimlessly in the darkness._

_“ ~~How curious…~~_ _”_ _You heard a hum, words in a language unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. All tumbling out of the voice’s maw like a warbling incomprehensible river of sounds, lilting hums, and vibrating lettering. It all sounded like static? TV static? White noise? You didn’t know and it didn’t make it any less confusing. The strange noise causing your head to feel odd, light, and fuzzy all at once._

_“Wh-Who’s there?” You called, twisting around slowly in the abyss to regard where you heard the voice coming from. “I can hear you, you know. Show yourself.”_

_The voice made a noise of surprise, as if it didn’t expect to be heard, but responded to your demand. “_ ~~_Interesting._~~ _”_ _You jolted once you saw bullets of the darkness begin to form a blob right in front of you, taking shape into a wiggling mass. “C ~~an you~~ hear me ~~child?~~ ”_

_“Yes, I-I sort of can.” You said, hovering slightly away from the mass as its shape grew larger. It was nearly looming over you with its height. “Y-You’re still static-y at times, but I can u-understand a little bit of what you’re saying.”_

_The mass stopped growing and as it began to solidify, a white pale face with detached hovering hands—you noted that they had large holes in them—emerged from the black mass and faced you._

_From what you could see the beings face had a heavy crack running up from one of its eye sockets, and another on the other side of the being’s face, running down from the other eye, to the mouth. Within the empty sockets, little lights seemed to shine, appearing to serve as pupils. Its right eye seemed to perpetually droop and its mouth seemed melted, or it was in the process of melting?_

_Strangely, it resembled a skeleton._

_A_ goopy _skeleton._

_You were so confused._

_The tall entity (seriously, what was up with these Monsters being so ridiculously tall?) stared at you with intelligent curiosity—its posture straight and stiff as a board, and its hands bridged together in a multi-fingered arch. However, you could tell from the slight wringing of its digits—phalanges?—that it was rather nervous to be in your presence._

_“Um, h-hello.” You supplied, feeling as though you should kick of the conversation. “My name is Y/N. I-I don’t suppose you know where we are…sir?” You assumed that it was male due to the due baritone it carried._

_The goopy monster spoke rather excitedly, his warbling ques muddling up your ears as your brain desperately tried to process what he was saying. You had to cut him off because you could not understand a damn thing he was saying. “I’m sorry, I really can’t understand you when you’re speaking that fast. Could you slow down a bit?”_

_The being huffed out an amused chuckle as one of his floating hands rested against his cheeks. To weakly hide the beautiful amethyst purple that flooded his cheeks. “ ~~Dear me,~~ I’m terribly sorry. I-It’s ~~been so~~ long since I’ve talked to ~~another that I’m~~ …rather excited.” He gave a sort of gentlemanly bow. “Where ~~are~~ my manners, ~~I am kn~~ own as Wing Dings Gaster, my dear.”_

_You giggled at his explanation, from what you could string together, and held out your hand in a friendly greeting. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gaster.” You blushed when he took your hand in his own and gave it a chaste kiss. Smooth._

_“ ~~The~~ pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/N.” He chuckled, his eye(lights?) alighting with suave mischief before he gently let go. “Now I ~~believe~~ that you had a query that you wished to be ~~answered~~ , yes?”_

_You perked up and let out a noise of exclamation as you realized that you were off-track with your train of thought. “Oh, right!” You lightly twisted your body in the sea of darkness, you were floating slightly away from him so you swam back as much as you could. “Where are we? What is this place?”_

_Gaster smiled sadly as he regarded the strange abyss. A look of melancholy briefly flickered across his face. “This is ~~known~~ as the Void. An unknown place of unfathomable reach and possibilities. Many things can enter, ~~but~~ very few can exit.”_

_From his tone and shifting emotions alone, you could tell that the man (monster?) was one of those things that could not escape the despairing grasp of the void. So, it made you wonder, how did you get here? Could you leave? Did this affect conscious self, or was this only a byproduct of sleep?_

No, _you thought firmly as you regarded your attention back to Gaster, who also looked like he was breaking out of his own thoughts,_ this feels way to real to be a dream…

_“Well then Mr. Gaster,” You said politely, vying to change the subject, “would you mind answering a few more of this lowly human’s probing questions?”_

_The void-skele chuckled. “Of course, my dear.”_

_…_

_The empty nothingness was filled with the chattering of a solemn goopy skeleton and a damaged human female. You both gabbed and asked each other questions about the other’s life. Some ranged from generic questions such as “what was your favorite food?”, “what hobbies do you like to do?”, or “what was your favorite color?”. While others were more personal and in-depth such as “how did you end up in the void?”, “what was the surface like?”, or “where did you get those scars?”._

_You both tended to stray away from answers those, but the other was understanding of the unspoken plight._

_Gaster taught you many things about living in the void as while as monster livelihood. He taught you how to move about fluidly in the ocean of black—despite your lack of limbs—and how to stop or stick in one place as if you were on the ground. He taught you about monster culture—or at least what he knew of it during his time—what to say, what not to say; what something meant, the importance of ACTs, MERCY, ITEMs and FIGHTs, and as much as he could about magic._

_And you told him as much as you could about the surface. What had changed during his lifetime under the stars (you were surprised to know that the skeleton was_ **centuries** _years old), where you were from and the inner-workings of your tribe and country. The advancements that the human race had made, as well as the knowledge of monsters and magic being urban legends. Superstitions. Myths._

_While he was distraught to learn about this, he was more so fascinated by the scientific leaps and bounds made by humanity._

_As he should, since he was the previous Royal Scientist to the King of Monsters._

_You thought that was so fucking cool._

_And you told him as such._

_You were pleasantly pleased to find that pretty amethyst on his cheeks again._

_Though you were slightly abashed as he scolded you for your vulgar language._

_You didn’t regret a bit of it._

_“Y/N,” Gaster said suddenly, abruptly changing the subject of your previous talk. “I couldn’t help but notice that you keep calling my kind a strange word. Erm,_ _Ástheiður_ _, I believe it was? Would you mind explaining that terminology to me? I have never heard of such a thing before in all my years.” You noticed that his garbled speak had all but disappeared as he spoke. You appreciated the time he was taking in order for you to understand him._

_“Of course, Mr. Gaster.” You complied as you finished your mini flip, finding that you could do such an action in such a albeit depressing place was amusing. “_ Ástheiður _simply means “creatures of love, heath, and prosperity” in my native tongue. It is—_ was _what my people called monsters back when they were still on the surface.”_

_Gaster’s eyelights immediately glinted with intelligent curiosity. “Forgive me my dear, but it sounds as if your people knew of monsterkind, at least from what I am gathering from the tone of voice you are holding.”_

_You nodded at his inquiry. “You are correct. My people, my clansmen, even my country knew of monsterkind. My ancestors and monsters had formed an everlasting friendship centuries ago, and monsterkind has saved my people a great many times from damnation.” You smiled faintly as you reminisced the stories of olde that your elders used to tell the children and adults of your clan. “Even when monsters disappeared, and even when the rest of humanity turned their backs on them, we never did. In honor of them, we’ve had many statues erected in their honor and to_ never forget _.”_

_The goopy skeleton said nothing as he watched you get lost in your memories. He was astonished that there was a sliver, a whole country of humans, that regarded monsterkind in a kindly manner. In all his centuries spent both above and underground, his brief interactions with humans as a young lad, and even now when he had such immense power to be able to view and effect changes in various multiverses…_

_He has_ **never** _been in a situation like this._

Something has changed… _He thought to himself as his gaze briefly hardened._ This timeline, this _universe_ even, is no longer what it once was… It feels… Definitive…

_He looked up as he regarded you once more. When he first found you here floating in the darkness of the void, he didn’t know what to make of you. He originally thought that perhaps you were a poor unfortunate SOUL whom happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps you were a SOUL of a previous Fallen Child? No, no. That wouldn’t have made sense. You were an adult for stars sake. But once he noticed that you could hear him speak, no matter if you couldn’t understand, he knew you were special. Even more so once he got to know you through talking and know you by viewing your SOUL._

**_Y/N L/N_ **

**** **_LV     1_ **

**** **_HP     14/45_ **

**** **_AT     3_ **

**** **_DF     0.5_ **

****

 

**_*She has been through a lot in her journey, but she REFUSES to give up._ **

****

**_*She regards Monsterkind in a positive light, and wishes to know more about this forgotten race._ **

****

**_*…_ **

****

**_*She is filled with SOMETHING…_ **

_Everything about this human was strange, unorthodox, and weird. Surprisingly, not in a bad way either. It made Gaster take a pause—_ him _of all monsters!—before his brilliant mind began to whirl with equations, theories, and possibilities._

_You were not supposed to be here._

_You weren’t even supposed to_ **exist** _._

_But now that you were here…_

_Gaster watched as you yawned and wrinkle your nose in a cute manner. He chuckled as he watched you try to stave off sleep in order to spend more time with him, an unknown._

_He knew that you were going to be the key to this timeline’s, this_ universe’s _, fate._

_Gaster gently placed his hands upon the sleepy human in a fatherly manner. “While I do appreciate you wanting to spend some more time with an old monster like me,” The former royal scientist huffed in amusement as you gave an indignant noise on his behalf. From the grumbles that sounded suspiciously like “you sure as hell don’t look old”, he took a wild guess. “You must be tired. Though you are resting and unconscious in the conscious world, it does not mean that you are asleep. It has been a trying day from what you have regaled me, my dear. It is best if you get some rest.”_

_You gave him hesitant look before you reached out and gently grasped unto his one of his damaged hands. “W-Will I see you again Mr. Gaster?” Though you didn’t know the man for long, you couldn’t deny yourself and say that there wasn’t a bond there. Despite being a human—the race that imprisoned his under the earth—he was willing to teach you so much. You were immensely grateful, and you wanted to see him again._

_The void-skele gave you a small smile as a small plume of purple stained on his bone-white cheeks. “Of course, my dear. I will be here when you next sleep.” He suddenly got a mischievous glint in his eyes as he raised a brow (bone?). “And just Gaster is fine dearest Y/N. You’ll make me feel even older than I already am if you keep that up.”_

_You both laughed. Yes, you couldn’t wait to see the goopy man again._

 

* * *

 

 

You groaned as you felt yourself come out of your comatose state unwillingly. Your jaw cracked as you let out a mighty yawn and the vertebrae followed suit in a symphony of crackles and pops as you stretched your body as much as you could. As your vision blearily regained focused, you noticed that you were still in the room that Toriel had plopped you in.

 

You slowly looked over to your right, noticing that your crutch was still where the friendly Goat Woman had left it. _So… that wasn’t a dream…_ You thought to yourself as you lifted your good hand to your face. You flexed it slowly, filling the rough callouses and the tightness of your skin as your muscles and bones shifted under it. _I really did fall in a giant whole, and a really did discover the world of the Ástheiður…_

 

You couldn’t help but think how fast your life changed in the last twenty-four hours (at least you thought that a day had passed). Before you came to this mountain, you fruitlessly thought that the day’s meanderings would be the same as it had always been in the last few months. Apply for jobs, go out to the interviews, get rejected, visit Sam and gripe about your rejection, go home, and repeat it all over again the next day. And now here you were, laying down in a literal goat woman’s home as you reside in a world filled with Monsters and Magic.

 

You snorted back a laugh as you realized that your life went from zero to a hundred in a span of a few hours.

 

A heavenly scent winded its way around your nose as it caressed your senses in the gentlest of ways. A ferocious grumble that sounded akin to a lion notified you of your hunger. You don’t think you’ve eaten anything since that sandwich before your fall. Even then it was only a measly little thing.

 

You made a squeak of protest as you hauled up your sore body into a sitting position. You took your sweet time planting your bare feet—Toriel must’ve taken your shoe once you passed out—onto the cool wooden floors below. The coolness of the floors felt heavenly on your foot as you sighed, and you determinedly hopped up onto your working leg and leaned against the nearby wardrobe as you made a grab for your crutch.

 

Grumbles of grogginess filtered out of your mouth and your shook some of your messy long hair out of the way as you hobbled out of the room’s only door.

 

Outside of the dim room was a beautifully painted cream-colored hallway with oaken-wooden floorboards. Old-fashioned lanterns that looked as if they belonged in a museum illuminated the long enclosure, and exotic plants that you have never seen before sparsely decorated the hallway as a few of them were placed by the doors.

 

As you made your way to the right, as the left was a dead end, your foot encountered a soft, plush, and long carpet with a posh design of arching lines that meddled tastefully despite the bright yellows, oranges, and browns compared to the muted hallway.

 

You had to admit that Toriel had wonderful taste in interior design.

 

As you ogled the hallways in your leisurely trek down the hall, you heard beautiful humming of a strange song. It was light with soft highs and lows, yet it was imbued with a haunting, sad undertone that made you feel melancholy and reflective. And as you rounded the corner, you saw the woman of the hour sitting in large, comfy brown recliner as she knitted a sort of cloth. Large tortoise-shelled glasses settled on her snout, her eyes focused on the yarn in front of her as her deft claws gracefully flew in and out of weaves before tightening to secure a knot. She was still wearing those purple robes from before, you noticed, but she still looked rather… _queenly_ in them.

 

As you forced your eyes away from the motherly monster, you took stock of the living room. Toriel’s recliner—which had a rather cute cinnamon colored throw blanket on its back—was placed next to a large bricked fireplace which was lazily crackling behind the iron shutter. To the left of that was a lar—no, a _mammoth-sized_ bookshelf filled to the brim with all different kinds of literary pieces. Most were in that strange language you remembered seeing outside of the house on that strange plaque; while others were, surprisingly, in Ebottian tongue.

 

And all the way to the far right of the cozy little room, was a large wooden dinner table fitted with three matching chairs. Another exotic plant served as the decorating piece as it preened in its gorgeous blue pot.

 

Finally done with your perusing—with Toriel none the wiser—you decided to make your presence known with the clearing of your throat.

 

The warm woman snapped her head up in surprise, took one look at your sheepish form, before immediately getting up out of her seat as she rushed towards you. Her knitting project completely forgotten.

 

“My child! You are awake!” Toriel squeaked as she fussed over you by putting her hand on your shoulders and checking for any lasting damages. “How are you feeling? Do you feel anymore soreness? Nothing wrong with your injuries I hope? Do you feel warm? Are you thirsty? Are you—!”

 

You laughed at the woman’s incessant, over-the-top fretting. You couldn’t help but feel truly touched that this woman, this caring monster cared so much for your well-being. Despite being of the race that imprisoned her people, from what you remembered, she was still so willing to look after and heal you.

 

You couldn’t help but put your faith in this lonely yet warm soul, despite knowing her for such a short time.

 

You smiled at her jubilantly as you met her worried-filled red eyes with your own grateful (e/c) one. “I am doing just fine Toriel. Better than I have been in a long time actually.” And it was true. Toriel’s magic had done wonders for your healing as well as rest. You haven’t slept so good since…

 

…Well, regardless. You felt wonderful.

 

Toriel sighed in relief as her fangs uplifted into a motherly smile, even if her brows were still slightly furrowed with worry. “That is wonderful news, dearest. Even though I wish better for you,” she seemed to glare at the causes of your haplessness, “I will temper my worries for now. Besides, I fear that you must be famished from your quite draining journey thus far, are you not?” Your stomach answered faster than you ever could with a hearty growl in confirmation. A blush bloomed on your (s/c) cheeks as the white-furred muzzle of the goat smirked playfully.

 

“ _Ohoho_ ,” she giggled with a paw lifted daintily to her snout, “no words are needed it seems. Please seat yourself at the table my child, I will be with you shortly with something to eat.”

 

You muttered under your breath in embarrassment but couldn’t keep up with your pouty disposition before you broke out in peals of soft laughter as you made your way over to the dinner table. As you sat down and waited for Toriel you began to reflect. The rumors. Climbing Mt. Ebott. Falling. Discovering strange plants, caves, and debris. Meeting Flowey. Toriel finding you. Toriel healing you. Falling asleep and meeting Gaster. Gaster telling you many things. Waking up and sitting here.

 

So much had happen in such little time you didn’t know where your thoughts began, resided, and ended. Where does this leave you? What about your life on the surface? What about your obligations, your meetings, your ambition, your relationships?

 

You thought long and hard about those sudden thoughts. Your good eye scrutinizing into nothing as it stared at your hand placed politely on the table.

 

Did you even want to go back…?

 

You gave a SOUL-shattering sigh, lifting your eyepatch up from over your damaged eye, before scrubbing your face in frustration with your hand. If anyone was in the room with you, they would’ve saw what was under the eyepatch. As your eyelid lifted, a black empty _nothingness_ greeted the cozy room. If someone happened to peer in, they probably could’ve seen the back of your skull, perhaps even the muscle that separated the eye from colliding with the brain. To the faint of heart, it was a queasy sight—no pun intended.

 

Your lithe fingers went over the long scar that ran down your eye as you thought over the loaded question. To be entirely honest, you didn’t. You knew that it was selfish of you, you’d be leaving Sam and Zachery, however you couldn’t help but feel this type of way. In the grand scheme of things, you had no one to tether you on the surface besides them. No family, no other friends, no job, no house in your name, no inheritance, no anything.

 

You were completely and utterly alone.

 

You wanted a job, yes, but technically you didn’t need one. The welfare of the Ebottian government covered your living expenses in full so that you would never have a need for a job. However, it covered only so much. It didn’t provide you with rehabilitation services when you were of an age to apply for one. it didn’t provide you accessibility services like a wheelchair or prosthetics when you _desperately_ needed them. It didn’t even cover extensive surgery to get another eye or straighten out the damaged muscles in your stumps so that it would be less painfully when you moved around.

 

It only covered heavy pain medication among other pills and that was it.

 

You huffed in annoyance, getting worked up at the thought. Though you managed to ignore the pains in your stumps until they were reduced to dull throbs now and then; though you managed to buy a crutch to move around with the money you managed to scrounge up somehow; though you learned how to walk again after _years_ of trying… you were understandably unhappy.

 

If given the option to stay here… you felt in your SOUL, that you would take it in a heartbeat.

 

Your ears twitched at the sound of heavy footfalls and you quickly covered your left eye with your eyepatch.

 

“I have returned my child!” Toriel chittered gleefully, her paws covered in cute oven mitts as she carried over a fresh pie of some sort. “I hope that you will not turn your nose upon butterscotch-cinnamon pie my dear. I-I must admit that I am not as… knowledgeable on what you humans eat.” She looked embarrassed as she said that. As if you would scold her for not knowing something that was clearly out of her control.

 

“Don’t worry Toriel,” you waved off the monster with a kind smile. “I’m sure that whatever you have made will taste delicious. It smells divine.”

 

You were fascinated as a rosy pink blush lit up on the woman’s muzzle, a hand going to her cheek as she set down the pie on the table. “O-Oho my~! You make this old goat feel like a teen again!” You both had a hearty laugh and she implored you to dig in. Not needing to be told twice, you tucked into the soft looking pie and let out an inappropriate moan once the food hit your taste buds. It was as if you were biting into a warm cheesecake made by the best pasty chef in the world. The topside drizzled with a cinnamon-y syrup as the pie’s filling tasted of melted down butterscotch candies, cooled into a fine whip to serve as the pie’s interior. The flavor wasn’t to sickeningly sweet, as the something provided a flavorful thick buffer, but it tasted just as fine.

 

Any shame you had flew out the window as soon as you took a bite. Your bravery skyrocketing as you asked for more.

 

As you ate, Toriel told you many things of the inner-workings of The Underground. The place in which she, and some other monsters, resided was called the “Ruins”. Rather fitting for a name, but you kept that thought to yourself. Many of her words were in stark alignment with Gaster’s, which shouldn’t have surprised you, but with her own spin on it. She told you of the significance of SOULs and how it was deeply rooted in monster-culture. How it was something very intimate and deeply interwoven in the inner machinations of a being’s entirety.

 

You told her of how Flowey pulled your SOUL out and your experience in the world draining away of color. She looked appalled and angered once you mentioned Flowey seeing your SOUL, and you were slightly afraid of the menacing aura that the supposedly “harmless” woman was emitting.

 

You reminded yourself to never get on Toriel’s bad side.

 

Despite that dour moment, you both had a wonderful time talking to each other and swapping stories. You both chatted like old friends—despite never seeing each other before this moment—and had fun teasing each other with menial things. You thought that Toriel bleating out in surprise when you told her that you were an _adult_ and in fact **_not_** a child, was your favorite moment out of the whole exchange.

 

You told her as such.

 

She pouted at you and threatened to take away your pie privileges if you ever brought this up again.

 

Of course, you agreed, but you would always reminisce on the thought if you were ever bored just for shits and giggles.

 

As the evening bled through the crystals jammed in the cave’s ceiling (Toriel had told you how that was their “sunlight” and how they could tell what time of day it was), you both began to feel the effects of drowsiness. The friendly monster helped you into your temporary room and into bed. You thanked her with a hug, which she was all to happy to reciprocate, and waited for sleep to claim you.

 

Despite the chaos of the morning and the peacefulness of the evening, you felt as if tomorrow would be just as hectic.

 

Welp, you were nothing if not stubborn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you have noticed, there is little dialogue in this chapter. Don't worry dear viewers, the next chapter should have heaps more talking as we progress. I'm the type of writer that likes to "world-build". I need to build a setting and be descriptive, but not too descriptive , in order for the chapter to flow easily.
> 
> If this is something that you have a problem with then I'm apologize, I'll try to dial it back but no promises.
> 
> Edit: Toats forgot to mention that the next chapter will be out sometime the week of the 1st. Look forward to it~


	5. A Somber Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a bit more about yourself and your history.
> 
> ...Prepare to cry.

…

 

_ Chapter Four: A Somber Story _

 

…

 

You groaned in annoyance as you began to shake off the effects of your dreamless sleep, residing in that sweet limbo between unconsciousness and consciousness. You really didn’t want to get up, your bed was so comfortable—much more comfortable than it has been in a while actually—and you _really_ didn’t want to go out and get rejected of another position again.

 

You sighed, turning over onto your side, and tried to go back to sleep. Snuggling your stuffed animal close to your face, reveling in its soft plushness.

 

…Wait a second.

 

You didn’t _have_ any stuffed animals.

 

That revelation was enough for you to jolt awake and bolt up in the bed you were sleeping in to take stock of your surroundings. However, once you saw the childishly crude drawings of flowers, the chest full of toys, and more of your stuffed animal friends; you remembered where you were and what happened the previous day.

 

“Right,” you sighed, taking deep breaths to calm your upcoming panic attack. “The whole falling down a giant hole in the mountain and discovering an ancient race… _Hvað í fjandanum er líf mitt?_ ” After taking a few more breaths to get your heart under control, you deemed yourself well enough to get up and start the day.

 

A massive yawn belted from your maw as you stretched out your back once your foot made contact with the cool wooden floorboards. After hearing and feeling the satisfying cracks of your vertebrae realigning themselves, you drowsily made a grab for your crutch and headed out the door once you stood up from the bed.

 

A heavenly scent greeted you as you made your way down the hall, your stomaching singing praises in the form of growls. The scent got stronger once you reached the cozy living room—the fire still burning strongly much to your surprise—before other heady, delicious scents joined its chorus as you approached an entryway to the north of the living room.

 

Once there you saw the kitchen and the kindly monster humming a merry tune as she whittled away making what you assumed was breakfast. The kitchen had sand-colored walls with white and black-colored tiles, a standard issued white refrigerator that was fucking MASSIVE. Toriel was easily eight-feet tall, so the refrigerator was most likely fitted to accommodate her height. Even her sink, counter, and stainless-steel stove and oven combo was taller than what you were used to.

 

Compared to your measly five-foot-ten self, everything was easily bigger than you.

 

“Oh, my dear!” Toriel exclaimed as she took noticed of you. You couldn’t help but awe internally once you saw that she was wearing a frilly pink apron as she cooked. She was too cute. “I did not notice you enter! Come in, come in, breakfast will be served shortly.

 

“Thank you Toriel, it smells amazing in here.” You praised as you hobbled closer to the goat woman. You noticed that Toriel was wearing a flowy, light-blue satin night gown, with her long-sleeves rolled up as she attended to breakfast. You supposed that she had to get out of her normal robes at some point during the day, but it surprised you nonetheless. She looked quite beautiful in them, even more regal if that was possible.

 

As you shifted your attention back to the kitchen, you noticed that there was a wooden rack that held up various frying pans and cooking utensils. You snorted as you noticed the mismatched oven mitts. One was a white oven-mitt with a light-pink flower pattern on it, while the other was a white oven-mitt with a red crisscrossed hatching pattern.

 

The Ruins Keeper blushed at your compliment, her graceful movements stuttering for a moment before she continued back into her workflow. “O-Oho, goodness me! Thank you my dear, it means a lot coming from you. I-It has been a while since I’ve cooked for anyone…” You watched as her expression faltered from an embarrassed one to a sad one. Her whipping of the batter slowed to a crawl as she reminisced of the past.

 

 _Well that won’t do,_ you thought with a glint in your eye. You knew what it was like to be absorbed in your thoughts, in memories of times lost. Sometimes it was welcome as you thought back to happier times, times where one should feel like should never be forgotten.

 

Other times… other times, one could do without them.

 

You hummed as you leaned against the monster watching her stirring pick back up, only pausing once at your action before continuing again. She seemed to puff up with confidence at your familiar action as she began to talk about what she was making. You watched enraptured at the glowing liquids be poured into mixtures, strange fruits and vegetables (you noticed an apple that was shaped like a crab. You swore it moved.), and the popping and fizzling of magic that was emitted from Toriel’s paws.

 

“Monsters,” she began as grabbed a spatula and stirred some of the chopped onions and spices she added to the spatula (the onion down here was apparently called a “Stoic Onion”. It was very bland and you didn’t even cry when it was cut open.). “are made up of different matter than humans. Instead of the blood, organs, and muscles that makes you, you, we are made up of love, compassion, and mercy. We are made of magic.”

 

“So, as such, we need magic in order to survive. Through many centuries, we have learned to successfully cultivate, harvest, preserve, and consume foods imbued with magic in order for us to persist.” She grinned at your awestruck look as she held out a paw and conjured her red-hot flames in all its glory. “Go on my dear, touch it.”

 

You balked at her suggestion at first but once you looked up into her motherly eyes, you knew that she wouldn’t bring you any harm. You grunted as you leaned against the counter to support yourself—as you would need your only hand to touch the flame—you saw her face morph into one of regret as she seemed to have forgotten your ailment. You reassured her with a gentle smile and once you were secure enough you reached out your hand to touch the red-orange flames.

 

They felt… warm. Not like regular fire warmth, the warmth that you would receive from sitting around the fireplace from a particularly cold winters night. Or warmth from that of a campfire as you all sat around, swapped stories, and ate marshmallows with the stars as your witness.

 

No, these flames felt different. It reminded you of the warmth you would receive from huddling up in your softest blanket, giggling deliriously for whatever reason as you readied for a good night’s sleep. The warmth you would receive for your efforts, preening as others congratulated you for your hard work. Telling you that you made them so proud by doing this thing that you were so adamant on. It was the warmth that you would get when you felt at your lowest, as if the very world was on your shoulders, and you felt as if you weren’t good enough. Then this warmth would tell you that you were, envelope you in its presence, and be with you as you cried yourself to sleep with it holding you throughout the night.

 

It was the warmth of a mother.

 

As you drew your hand back and looked up a Toriel, you could see it in her expression. What your instinct has been telling you all along, why you felt that this overly friendly woman meant you no harm, why she seemed to fret and be one step ahead of you… was because she had the disposition of a mother.

 

And from the melancholic expression on her face, how her red eyes seemed to always carry this undertone of sadness with her; always swimming with invisible, unshed tears...

 

You knew that at one point, she _was_ one.

 

You felt like an idiot for not putting it together sooner—you were sleeping in a child’s room for stars’ sake! —but in your defense, you were preoccupied with battling with your psyche on what was your next move now that you were down here.

 

But as you pushed off of the counter, your crutch clattering onto the tiled floor, and fell into Toriel’s surprised arms; you knew what that move would be.

 

“My child! That was very dangerous of you!” Toriel scolded as she hugged you tightly to her person. Her fuzzy white brows furrowing with the ire of an upset mother. “You could have hurt yourself—!”

 

“I’m sorry.” You cut her off. Your one arm tightly holding onto her in a pathetic resemblance of a hug. You closed your eye as you nuzzled into her chest; sending, projecting as much feelings of comfort, ease, warmth as you could. While you weren’t a monster and couldn’t display your magic so easily as to what you have been shown; you knew of the existence of your SOUL, and you knew what it could do in terms of projection. “I’m so sorry Toriel. But it’s ok. I’m here now. _Og ég mun gera eins mikið og ég get til að vernda þig og aldrei láta þig verða meiða aftur_.”

 

 

**_*You felt the SOUL of TORIEL and resonated with hers. And within her heart of hearts you could feel her sorrow._ **

****

**_*Vowing to protect and to never hurt this friendly mother as she has done for you… fills you with SOMETHING…_ **

 

 

You felt her body shudder, the tremors of anguish rippled through your body like an old lover as you held the goat woman tighter. Her soft sobs rended your heart, your SOUL in two as the cries of the gentle giantess filled you with a strong emotion of defeat, as if it was your fault that she was this way. You felt her collapse to her knees, bringing you with her—not that you minded—as she held onto you like a lifeline. Like you were her only tether to life and she clung to you desperately, unyieldingly, and with embarrassing tenacity.

 

You decided, right then and there, that you would stay with this woman, this monster. And never let her go as others have done to her.

 

**_*You are filled with DETERMINATION… and SOMETHING else…_ **

 

* * *

 

After that much needed episode, the both of you went to the living room to eat your breakfast in comforting silence. You cuddled up next to her legs as you sat on the floor, happily filled with the delicious magical foods, and hummed in content as Toriel ran her skillful claws through your scalp.

 

She was reading one of her books from her personal library, a book about “101 Facts About Snails! Is it not interesting dearest?” her turtle-shell glasses sitting comfortably on her face as she read along the fine print. She seemed much more relaxed ever since her episode in the kitchen; her shoulders were less tense, her eyes less wary, and her smile was that much brighter.

 

You could help but preen like a bird that you helped her become this way.

 

“Dearest Y/N?” You hummed in acknowledgement, leaning your head even more into her paw as she scratched an area just right. You smirked as you heard her giggle. “I wanted to ask what it was that you said earlier. I must say that it is a language that I have never heard before.”

 

You perked up and couldn’t help but groan at your stupidity. “Oh, my stars, Toriel, I can’t believe I didn’t… I thought I already…” You sighed as you slapped your palm against your forehead—much to Toriel’s displeasure—before you regained your speech. “Toriel, I’m from a different country, a different area than the one that monsterkind is trapped under.”

 

The Giant Goat Woman’s eyes ignited with surprise and barely restrained curiosity. “A country, you say? Is that a large stretch of land of some sort?” She closed her book with a soft “tap” as she gave you her undivided attention. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about the surface my child. I remember “providences” being a part of human culture the last time monsters were topside, but not much else.”

 

Your eye widened and your mouth went agape with shock. Providences?! Did she mean the sections of estates or land that a kingdom surveyed? They haven’t been in existence since the times of olde! “T-Toriel,” you started shakily, “j-just how old a-are you?”

 

The monster blinked before she gave you a mischievous grin. “It is rude to talk about a lady’s age, my dear.” She then gave you a cheeky wink, shoulders bouncing in amusement.

 

You gave a startled laugh before leaning back against the keeper’s legs. _Merciful Odin_ , you didn’t think you could handle another life-changing revelation today. You already had a clusterfuck of them in the last forty-eight hours.

 

“N-No, a country is not a providence Toriel.” You said shaking yourself out of your stupor. “It’s a nation with its own government occupying a particular territory. Sort of like districts and small settlements outside large towns, cities, or the capital.”

 

You grunted as you turned more on your side to lean more into the recliner so that you could face the goat monster better.  “I am from the country of _Upprunalandið_ , _the country of origin_. And the clan in which I was born in was the _Dögun Clan and/or Tribe_ , the _clan of the dawn_.”

 

Toriel looked absolutely fascinated by the words spouting out of your mouth. She looked akin to a kid in a candy store, or a teen finally allowed to drive in their dream car. It was quite hilarious to see her eyes _literally_ sparkle—magic, you thought cheekily—and her fanged muzzle to stretch into a smile of uncomfortable proportions.

 

You laughed as she beckoned you to continue on with a rapid wave of her paw. “ _Upprunalandið_ is— _was_ a unique country in itself as it is— ** _was_** the only place in the world to house recordings of monsterkind. However, you are all called someth—!” You squeaked as heavy paws clasped suddenly under your shoulders and you were heaved up into the air like a ragdoll. Eye wide in disbelief as a serious expression greeted you on Toriel’s face.

 

“Y/N.” That was the gravest you have ever heard from her. “Your people know of monsterkind? Does the rest of humanity know?” Her expression was so severe that it caused your heart to pick up its tempo in anxiety. It felt as if the next words out of your mouth would be a deciding factor of something. What it was, you didn’t know. But you felt absolutely sick with your next words.

 

“Yes, we did know, but the rest of humanity does not.” You sighed as you looked at her tiredly. “Your kind has faded into obscurity as myth and legend. Something to frighten misbehaving children by, or that of fantasy.”

 

Toriel looked absolutely crushed as she set you back down on the floor. She stumbled back into her recliner and fell back with a heavy _“whump!”_. You looked up at the ceiling and stayed silent for a moment, giving the woman a moment to collect her thoughts.

 

However, it was best to continue on so that she could have more time to herself in the company of her own privacy.

 

“Monsters,” you began again, catching the subtle twitch of her ear to signify that she was still listening. “Are called something us in our tongue. You are called **Ástheiður** , creatures of love, heath, and prosperity.” You stared directly at her as she raised her head to regard you. “And you were once treasured brethren of my clan.”

 

She gasped in shock, and from the questioning in her eyes, you knew that she had so much to say. But before she could ask the implied question dangling in the air, you answered it for her.

 

“War.” You said in a clipped tone, and from the wince and the despair in her eyes—she knew that word well. You took in a dep breath and regaled the tell of your people.

 

 

_ “Long ago, two races ruled the Earth: _

__

_ The Ástheiður and Humans.  _

__

_ One day, war broke out between the two races.  _

__

_ After a long battle, the humans were victorious.  _

__

_ They sealed the Ástheiður underground with a magic spell. _

__

_ However, not all humans were happy with the outcome of the egregious war. _

__

_ While there were many that feared and despised monsterkind, there were just as many who loved and reveried them. _

__

_ A man named Emŭnd stepped forward with his brother Yjorick to protest to the Elder Council and the leaders of the war one night. _

__

_ “Hear me comrades!” Emŭnd roared. “Has this war been as promised as it was made out to be? Has this war been coveted by humanity? I say nay! We have lost innocent men out in the battlefields, innocent women, children, and elders in presiding villages—and even worse, we have lost innocent brethren that has rightly roamed this Earth alongside us for eons.” _

__

_ “And for what?! Unjust fear and insurmountable bigotry for the unknown rather than seeking out the truth! What say you to this fallacy?! This pointless tryst to best in which not needed to be bested?! Even the guilty mages in question, which erected that damnable barrier, has laid their regret to rest and has paid with their lives by their own hands! Uplift the ludicrous veil of deceit that you have covered thyselves with and pursue what is right!” _

__

_ However, the Council and the leaders did not listen to Emŭnd’s and Yjorick’s pleas, and casted them out of the atrium. In recompence for their bigotry, the brothers planed a coup d'état with many others who aligned themselves with their beliefs against those who did not listen. _

__

_ The result was bloody, horrid, and long as humans turned against themselves with two factions leading the frontlines: Those of Emŭnd's and Yjorick’s group, those who viewed monsterkind as innocent; and those of the previous warmonger’s group, those who viewed monsterkind as guilty. _

__

_ A civil war then broke out and lasted for ten long, egregious years. But there could only be one victor, and to the dismay of many, it was in the favor of those who viewed monsterkind as guilty. _

__

_ As a price of the war, Emŭnd was dictated by the victors to pay for his life for his disobedience, and those whom aligned with his beliefs were to be exiled and never heard from again. _

__

_ As his last wish, Emŭnd dictated Yjorick—his younger brother—to lead their people to prosperity and to never forget their faith in monsterkind. Yjorick promised and with a heavy heart led his people out of the human settlement, leaving his only family behind to rot for all eternity in the hands of his enemies.” _

 

 

You took a pause in your storytelling to look up at the ceiling as you began to get lost in your thoughts. You’ve heard this story many times as a child, whether by the elders of your clan, your parents, or even other clansmen. It was something that was pinnacle in your peoples’ history and a core pillar of your being that molded you to be… well, you. What would you have done if you were in Emŭnd’s or Yjorick’s shoes—the founding fathers of your clan—if you were in the position that they were in at the time? Would you have fought, or would you have granted them mercy?

 

You didn’t know.

 

You continued. “Yjorick led his and his brother’s believers through hell and back as they went on a journey to find a place to call their own. Through drenching rainforests, through arid and intense desert-lands, and through freezing tundra; until finally, they reached a place that was optimal for their settling.” You turned your head to look at Toriel and saw a look of deep contemplation on her face. “That is where the _country of origin_ , Upprunalandið, was born.”

 

“And you know,” you said, startling Toriel out of her thoughts. “We’ve erected so many statues of monsters to never forget. Monsters of healing was put in front of hospitals, monsters of keen knowledge in front of libraries and places of study, monsters of strength and power put in front of places of government, and so on and so forth.”

 

You looked down as somber mood hung over your person. “It’ll never make up for what we—humanity as a whole—has done to your people, but if it even helped a little bit to never forget what you all have done for us… we did it without question.”

 

Another moment of silence.

 

“…And what of your injuries, my child?”

 

Ah, there was the million-dollar question.

 

You gave a damning sigh—you really need to stop doing that—and sunk even more against Toriel’s fuzzy legs in exhaustion. This whole _“telling of your people’s history”_ was taxing, but your own personal history was even moreso. But you felt like Toriel deserved an answer regardless. You owed her that much.

 

“…Sixteen years ago, Upprunalandið was involved in a war.” You started off as you reminisced of times past.

 

_You remembered waking up one day with your little sister, confused as your mother and father urgently ushered you out of bed to come with them. You remembered barely putting on your tunic and cloak until your father hauled you up into his embrace as you briskly walked outside, with your mother and sister right behind him._

_Your remembered seeing almost every single one of your clansmen outside and in a large single line as they all made their way to the capital._

 

“Two other presiding countries that were along our opposite borders were having a bit of a… disagreement. Needless to say, that tensions were high enough that it boiled past the point of breaking. And unfortunately, my country and people were caught in the middle.”

 

_You remembered sitting with your family in the large marble-like temple, squished between others that you knew well as mummering encompassed the massive structure as the leaders and elders of your clan called for order._

_Your sister clung onto you like a lifeline as you all sat upon the curved marble-cutted seats, questioning what was happening and why they were there._

_You couldn’t give a definite answer to her even if you tried._

 

“So, a few of their representatives from both sides came to us for aid in the fight. They promised fame, riches, and other materialistic things as if to appease us that the act of war was a glamorous and righteous event.” You frowned in distaste as you remembered some of the sleaze-balls that tried to cozy up to the Honorable Elders. Bastards, the lot of them. “Naturally, we refused.”

 

_Shouting. Discontent shouting was loudly apparent in the temple as your clansmen vocally disagreed against the slimy ambassadors’ words. They didn’t want anything to do with what was happening and wanted the pompous men out of their land._

_You remembered your mother and father holding onto your sister and yourself tightly as the commotion went on. You also remembered the angry and disgusted face of your father and the upset and apathetic expression on your mother. You didn’t know what was happening but if your parents were unhappy, then you knew that something was wrong._

_You held on tighter to Lóa._

 

“However, they wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, they decided that if we weren’t going to help them, then they would help themselves…”

 

_Screams and sobs of mercy filled the air as the uncomfortable smell of ash, smoke, and blood permeated the atmosphere. You cried and held on tighter to your mother as she crouched down and held onto you on your sister as another bomb went off close by. Your father was your shield as he took the brunt of the attack, his back facing the explosion in order to provide some form of protection against the fire._

_You remembered hearing his grunts of pain, but he would stare into your frightened eyes with his own clear ones and reassure you that everything was going to be ok._

_Another bomb went off in the distance._

_You didn’t think that it would._

 

“By getting rid of the problem akin to getting rid of pests.” You clenched your hand into your stump, digging your nails into the old wound causing welts of blood to bleed through your sweater. “…By **extermination**.”

 

_You remembered the sound of trilling gunshots ratcheting in the air before watching as your parents went down with it. Everything was in slow motion as you watched two of the strongest pillars in your life, crumble like dewy grass in the breeze._

_You didn’t even register the geyser of blood that splattered onto your face, to frozen to even move, say, or do anything._

_You watched as your mother, you beloved mother—the woman you brought you into this world with love and compassion—weakly raise her hand as she reached for you._

_She called your name, and with her dying strength, ripped off the locket around her neck and put it into your shaking hands._

_“G-Go…” She rasped with difficulty. Her lungs stuttering as she spoke with her last remaining breath. “L-Live… and protect y-your sis-sister, m-my l-love…” You held on even when she couldn’t anymore, and it was only the anguished crying of your sister that broke you out of your despondent trance._

_You took Lóa’s hand and didn’t look back as you both escaped the gunmen._

_You felt like a coward._

 

“I watched men, women, and _children_ **_die_** at the hands of those bastards.” You hissed. Angry tears rolling down your (s/c) cheeks. “We _didn’t_ want to fight; we _didn’t_ want a war. Yet they were too caught up in themselves to notice that, to absorbent to notice the plight of others to even consider their feelings. _And what did they do?!_ They brought the fight to us, **_dooming hundreds of thousands because of their insignificant little tiff!_** ”

 

_The bombs were getting much to close for your liking._

_You were running with other clansmen whom had managed to find you and your sister amongst the rumble of the once beautiful and prestigious buildings. It had taken months, but you had finally found them and luckily, they had a resting camp fill with necessary supplies and food that they made with others. You were relieved. Your sister and yourself had been feeding on whatever scraps you could find in the rubble. Sometimes you were lucky and killed a bird or rabbit or two, but they’ve been scarce lately._

_You feared that you both would’ve gone hungry in the upcoming weeks._

_…Well, hungrier as you’ve sometimes had the tendency to skip meals in order for your sister to eat and get her strength up._

_She came first. She would_ **_always_ ** _come first._

 

“My mo-mother, my f-father, my cousins, a-aunts, a-and uncles…” You hiccuped as the river of tears were unending as your mind delved deeper and deeper into your memories. Never letting up, never getting a reprieve. Letting all of your dirty air to bee cleaned out and witness to an audience you barely knew, but cared for regardless. “All **_g-gone_** because of some s-stupid war…! A-And even worst of all…”

 

_The attack was fast, sudden, and came out of nowhere._

_The gunmen let loose spraying bullets on your little camp, their malicious sneers and cackles as they watched innocent people die by their hands. You even heard a few of them joke about making a game out of the killings…_

_You wanted to vomit right then and there._

_For the first time in a long time, you thought of the story where a war broke out between Monsters and Humans, and remembered the aftermath and what led to your country, your people come into being._

_And as you ran away in the thicket of scurrying bodies, only glancing back at the soldiers in damning red as they chased your people down…_

_You couldn’t help but think that_ they _were the_ ** _true monsters_** _._

_However, your thoughts came to an abrupt end when a white-hot searing pain enveloped your body and you crumpled to the ground in a dead faint; holding onto your consciousness no more._

 

“Th-They even took a-away m-my little sister… m-my little **_Lóa_** a-away from me…!”

 

_Deafening, jarring ringing filled your ears as you slowly came to, but you wished you didn’t because as soon as you woke up, pain filled your senses with swift precision._

_You noticed with panicking alarm that you couldn’t see out of your left eye. Your panic only mounted as you realized that you couldn’t move either._

_With great effort and deep agony, you lift your head up from looking at the sooty, brown sky to looking down at your body._

_You gave a shrill scream once you saw your blood rushing out of the places where your left arm and right leg once were._

_You felt yourself get dizzy with fear and grogginess from losing your blood and wanting to pass out from the pain and the situation at hand. But before you could, a whisper of a thought invaded your addled mind._

_“L-L-_ _Ló…a… wh…whe-re’s…_ _L-Lóa…” Your head plopped back down, swimming with thoughts of your missing sister—from hoping that she was ok, to fearing whether or not she was alive._

_You blinked as you saw something flutter softly in the wind._

_It was a purple cloth of some sort… Lóa loved the color purple._

_With your remaining strength, you screamed as you forced yourself to turn onto your stomach. You didn’t care whether the sudden movement aggravated your wounds, causing more blood to spill out and color the ground. You didn’t care that your lungs started to work double-time as you made it your mission to go over to the cloth. You didn’t care that your only working arm and leg protested at being used, as you made your way to the only color visible in the see of brown and silver._

_And you didn’t care whether or not this simple mission would kill you in the end, all because you didn’t rest._

_All you cared about was your only remaining family, your beloved little sister, and her safety._

_“Ló…a…_ _Lóa…” You wheezed as you crawled at a snail’s pace to the purple cloth. Your working eye perked up in tired delight as you saw the telltale sign of your sister’s (h/c) languidly blowing in the breeze. “I-It’s…o-ka-y Lóa…your b-bi…g… sis… Y-Y/N is here… I-I’m h-her—!”_

_Lidded, dim (e/c) stared back you as forgotten tears streamed down its face. The face of your sister frozen in fear as a single ribbon of blood flowed out of her mouth and pooled on the dirty ground below. Horror struck you as you saw a single gunshot wound in her tiny chest bleed through her tunic and dress as her little hands reach out into the unknown._

_The shot was a clean run-through her heart, and her hands were most likely reaching out for you._

_The heavens trembled as it displayed its anguish in the form of rain and shared its sorrow with you as your haunting screams filled the dead air, with nary a soul to witness this macabre scene._

 

You didn’t react as sobs of pain and hopelessness ripped through your tightening throat; you didn’t react as large paws quickly yet gently scooped you up and placed you into a warm embrace.

 

All you remembered were your tears and screams of unfairness, a motherly voice cooing in your ears, and a scent of pie and pine as you cried well throughout the day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I hate myself for writing this chapter.
> 
> Next chapter will be out by the week of the 23rd. I promise that it'll be on a happier note. ^_^"
> 
>  
> 
> *"Hvað í fjandanum er líf mitt?" - "What the hell/fuck is my life?" in Icelandic.
> 
> *"Og ég mun gera eins mikið og ég get til að vernda þig og aldrei láta þig verða meiða aftur." - "And I will do as much as I can to protect you and never let you be hurt again." in Icelandic.
> 
> *Upprunalandið - "the country of origin" in Icelandic.
> 
> *Dögun - "dawn" in Icelandic


	6. Welcomed Decision and Curious Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Goat Mom have a talk and finally do some exploring around the RUINS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how long this took. I was horrible distracted with vacationing and having an immense writers block. I know that I'm not out of hot-water with any of you guys, so I wanted to apologize for talking so long.
> 
> Even moreso because I will be going back to college for the Fall Semester in a few days, dragging the upload time from moderately consistent to "WTF What am I gonna write, this is bullshit".
> 
> All I can ask of you is to bear with me and please keep on supporting this story. By no means am I giving up on this. I have an INSANE amount of plot that I want to pump into this piece; I just don't know how to go about it.
> 
> I also want to get started on another UNDERTALE story that I've wanted to create for a while now.
> 
> So again, please bear with me, thank you for all of your support, and I'm terribly sorry for the wait time.
> 
> Now let's get on with the story.

…

 

_ Chapter Five: Welcomed Decision and Curious Exploration _

 

…

 

A few weeks had passed since that fateful day where you bared your heart and SOUL to Toriel. She was your rock, your pillar, and phenomenal help in getting your mind back to a somewhat stable degree from your episode. She would always tell you to never forget, never shun away those horrible times; but to accept them, accept what has happened, and learn to move on from.

 

“It will be hard,” The Goat Woman said as she stroked your long (h/c) hair. Her muzzle tilted up skyward as she too reminisced of times past. “It will be the hardest thing that you will ever do, my dear. Even I have trouble with my own demons… but, in the end, it will be worth it and you will find that it will be easier to love yourself more… if only a little bit.”

 

So, you heeded her words and worked on coming to terms with not only yourself, but your new environment as well. It would be a long time before you would forgive yourself for your sins—that much you knew—however it would be in your best interest to be active and learn about the Ruins and The Underground a little more, since you felt that you would be staying here for a while.

 

So, with Toriel’s permission, you would venture out into the front-yard and just stare as you took stock of the strange, and bold purple-ness that made up the Ruins. You would hobble along as you ran your calloused fingers along the aged bricking that made up the house. Belting out an appreciative hum at its sturdiness despite being here for however many centuries.

 

With the light-purple linear pathway as your guide, you would make it your mission every morning and afternoon to regard the sooty black tree, sitting along its rose-petal covered roots, and just relax against the flora and entertain the thoughts of how many stories this tree would have if it was sentient.

 

It was a great muse as well as you sketched drawings of it in your sketchbook that you brought with you from the surface. Many people complemented your artistic talents despite your rebuffs.

 

As you added the final hatching and charcoal shading to your tree, with your stump holding down your sketchbook as much as it could as you drew, you heard your name being called from the front porch. You looked over your sketch and felt partially satisfied with your work. With a huff and a grunt, you lurched onto your foot and complacently bumbled your way into the house.

 

As you entered through the front and only door, you regarded the barricaded staircase that led to the basement. During your weeks—boarding months—living here, you couldn’t help but notice spiraling staircase that sat blatantly in the middle of the room. You had asked Toriel about it on a few occasions, but she would always respond that they led to her basement where she was working on a pet project of hers. It was subtle, but she looked nervous and jittery at mentioning it so you dropped it.

 

Sometimes, however, you would see her walk down them and be gone for an hour or two when she thought no one was looking.

 

You shrugged and continued on towards the living room. _It’s none of my business,_ you thought as you made your way towards the excited clamoring of the excited Goat Woman _. Whether or not she wants to tell me what’s down there doesn’t matter. I’ll gladly wait to earn her trust, as she has earned mine._

 

“There you are my dear!” Toriel excitedly bleated. Her elegant purple robes fluttering around her ankles as she turned towards you. “I have a wonderful haul from the market today, and something just for you that a hope you might like!” She crooned as she began to sift through her paper bags that held various produce, fabrics, and other miscellaneous things. Toriel had a tendency of leaving for The Market that the Ruins held every day, at around noon or so about once every week.

 

You had brought up about you going with her, to somewhat help with the groceries and shopping, but she refused. She was afraid of how monsters would receive a human—an _adult_ at that—and she wouldn’t forgive herself if you got hurt. You dropped it at first, but you would casually bring it up from time to time to see if her decision changed.

 

From her joyous grin as she tapped a button on her archaic block-cellphone, and a _fucking_ wheelchair **_fucking_** popped out of it. Something told you that it did.

 

From your gobsmacked look she happily explained _Dimensional Boxes_ and their general use in The Underground by monsterkind. She explained how they were most commonly built in phones to help carry items to reduce carrying capacity, and how depending on the model of a phone that a certain weight-limit came with it.

 

“And when I was in the market today, I came upon this little contraption!” She explained giddily as she gestured to the wheelchair. “The vendor said that humans who cannot stand or walk very well use this type of equipment to help with mobility! How fascinating!”

 

Toriel looked at you with an abashed expression on her muzzle, her filed claws making clacking sounds as she drummed against themselves in a timid manner. “N-Nevertheless my dear, I kn-know that I have been rather… _difficult_ to deal with in terms of letting you venture out into the Ruins. And I know how stifling it can be in the house at times…” She inhaled a deep breath before looking at you with firm red eyes. “But that is no excuse to keep you—an adult no less—cooped up in such a limited environment because of my fears. I-I just hope that when you venture out by yourself, that you see this as a place to come back to.”

 

You were touched at her sympathy, love, and forthrightness with displaying her feelings and fears with you. You felt your SOUL do a happy twirl knowing that someone as kind and wonderful as Toriel really cared for you, despite only knowing you for so long. “Toriel, of course I’ll come back. I see this place as a home… my home.” You took in a deep breath, fiddling with your crutch as you shifted hesitantly on your foot. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, heart thumping strongly in your chest, and mind made up.

 

You had prepared for this moment for countless nights, psyching yourself up in the bathroom mirror to build up your confidence.

 

You convinced yourself of this decision. You were confident.

 

**_*You were filled with DETERMINATION… and SOMETHING else…_ **

 

“Toriel,” You looked up at her with a steely eye, jaw clinched with resolution. “You have done more for me than anyone else has since my family’s death. To be honest, you are like another mother to me.” You didn’t hear the hissing of a sharp breath. “…If you’ll have me, I’d like to stay here with you—!”

 

You exhaled a soft grunt as you found yourself in the gentle yet bruising embrace of the magical goat lady. Your crutch clattered to the ground yet the barely restrained sobs seemed to pierce through the melancholy that permeated the air.

 

“D-Don’t say… O-Of course I would l-love to have you…” She whimpered weakly, her fangs worrying her lips as she nuzzled into your (h/c) locks. “Y-You can stay here as long as you like… And i-if you want, y-you can call me M-Mother…?”

 

It has been a long, trying, and egregious sixteen years since the death of your parents and sister, and the eradication of your people and country. As you traveled from place to place, hitching rides with various strangers in different countries, shacking up in dilapidated hostels and orphanages, and sleeping under the stars many times… You’ve realized that you’ve grieved your lost for a long time. You remembered a time where hate infected every single cornerstone of your heart, its beat sounding off like a war-song as you thought of revenge against those who wronged your people. But that hate slowly diminished before dissolving and dying like the embers of a wilting fire.

 

You did not want to hate anymore. You _hated_ the feeling of anger, of rage, as it coursed through your veins; giving you terrifying power in exchange for the painful molten hot lava that would course through your bloodstream the longer you allowed the negative feeling to fester.

 

You looked up—as much as you could, in her embrace—at Toriel and felt your SOUL twinge with remorse at the rivers of tears that streamed down her muzzle. You knew in your heart of hearts that she would never replace your birthmother, you didn’t want to spit on her memory in doing so. But you were tired of being alone, tired of muddling through life with seemingly no purpose as everything you loved died nearly two decades ago.

 

You wanted to be surrounded by warmth again, wanted to be loved again, wanted to be doted on again…

 

**_Wanted a family again._ **

 

And as you watched the anguished expression on the gentle monster’s face, you realized that she wanted the same to. You always had a feeling that she had a child, a family once.

 

Now it made since why Toriel was so forward and a tad clingy.

 

So, you were happy with yourself as you reached up with your arm and gently tilted down the Goat Woman’s face to look at you once more. You gave her a blinding smile, one of the _truest_ smiles you’ve had in years, and gave your answer with your SOUL thundering in your chest with resounding approval.

 

“Okay… _Mom_.” You said with a watery chuckle.

 

Toriel’s relived laughter and bone-crushing hug was one of your greatest achievements to date.

 

Everything seemed to be looking up from here.

 

* * *

 

 

Everything seemed to _NOT_ be looking up from here.

 

Toriel, a.k.a. _your new Goat Mom_ , was very adamant in you riding in the wheelchair while the two of you explored the Ruins. You were very vocal against doing so as you pointed out that you could toddle around just fine without the additional help. You weren’t helpless, you told her.

 

“I-I know my dear child, and I would be a fool to think so,” The Ruins’ keeper said softly as she carded her claws through your hair. “I just wanted to dote on you like a mother would. I do worry about you so, was it not right for me to do so?” And with a single milky, puppy-eyed look from the elder woman you knew you were slain by her soft cuteness.

 

It wasn’t even a contest.

 

So, with heart that was heavy with embarrassment and a SOUL thrumming with adventure, you sat in the slightly rickety wheelchair with Toriel setting away your crutch next to her giant recliner. You blinked in welcome surprise as she laid a large yet soft quilt over your leg to warm you from the Ruins cool drafts. You appreciated the various browns and creams that dyed the large cloth, and appraised the design of tasteful diamonds and the winged symbol that was also on Toriel’s robes. It was called the Dela Rune by monsters.

 

“Are you ready my child?” Toriel hummed with soft enthusiasm, breaking you out of your appraisal.

 

With a childish wiggle as you burrowed deftly under the quilt. You nodded an affirmative and gave an amused chuckle as your new mother pushed you out of the door with a skip in her step.

 

…

 

The Ruins was a lot bigger than you thought.

 

Granted, your first impression of it wasn’t even that if you had to be honest. What with Toriel running at speeds that Olympic runners would be jealous of; you really didn’t have much to go off of as the two of you walked (more like _rolled_ for you) along the light-purple pathways as the Ruins Keeper showed you your new home.

 

However, the first thing you noticed about this place was how _wide_ everything was.

 

The _“halls”_ were more like giant Cathedral-like corridors and the aesthetic dilapidation of the Corinthian or Dorian-style pillars didn’t help as their massiveness failed to even hold an inkling of width compared to the halls. Considering the massive height of Toriel and presumably the rest of monsterkind, you shouldn’t be surprised. But you ashamedly were.

 

The second thing you noticed about the Ruins was how there were puzzle-like contraptions _everywhere_.

 

Spikes lining the floors (why?), strange totems that caused rooms to change in different directions (that freaked you out), pitfalls covered by wonderful-smelling rose petals (cool but again, why?), large-buttons ingrained on the floor that were time-based (that was actually inventive), and many others.

 

Toriel told you how puzzles were a staple in monster-culture. The Underground had them everywhere and it was a common necessity to have in day-to-day life. Whether it was a deterrent against enemies, or for having general amusement in, puzzles were welcomed and needed. She also explained how puzzles were also used to profess love to a potential mate such as presenting an elaborate one for marriage, or gifting puzzles to the significant others’ parents. You thought that it was an interesting concept.

 

In turn, you explained how in your culture to profess the intentions of marriage to a desired mate, one must hunt illustrious or difficult prey and present rich, quality fabrics to their desired mate’s parents. Additional gifts were optional but usually not preferred.

 

You told her how that signified the strength of the partner who hunted the harder game, how that person could provide for the family with their strength. It was usually males that did it, but females did it as well in your clan.

 

That’s how your birthmother won the affections of your father’s parents after all.

 

Toriel was fascinated by the concept and asked more things about your clan, after you reassured her that she wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. You gladly told her all that you could, and ask for more information about Monsterkind in turn.

 

The two of you spent the next few minutes swapping information and regaling tales as you ventured out father into the Ruins. It was honestly quite nice talking to another about your clan without any restrictions; emotional, mental, physical, or otherwise.

 

You felt—!

 

“ _Ribbit Robbit_ … Lady Toriel, who is that with you?” A croaky (heh) voice called out. The two of you ceased your chatter to turn towards a… _toad_ …? No, a frog(?)-like creature. It was one of the strangest creatures you have ever seen to date (Toriel notwithstanding). It was a giant white frog, whose height would be a little under your waistline, with four soft webbed feet. Its two front feet were visible, with three black dots on its chest. Between its two front feet was what appeared to be some small creature with eyes that excessively blinked and had a rounded mouth.

 

You blinked at it. It blinked at you.

 

What a meaningful conversation.

 

“Ah!” Toriel suddenly exclaimed, drawing the attention to herself. She looked at the frog-like creature amicably with a hint of nervousness. “Mister Zeb, what a surprise to see you! I had heard that you were currently getting over a nasty case of the sniffles. I presume that things are better, yes?”

 

The amphibian-like monster, Zeb, nodded towards the giant Goat Woman. “Indeed. My mate wished for me to stay at the nest to recuperate further, but I thought it best to at least stretch these old webbed-feet of mine in an afternoon stroll.” He sighed as his rectangular-irises shifted off to the side as they took on a worried shine to them. “Surely I will pay for my insubordination tonight, _ribbit_.”

 

Zeb then shook his head as he returned his attention back to you. “But enough about me, I am hardly so interesting.” You begged to differ. “ _Ribbit Robbit_ , I wished to know who this… hmm… _monster_ is that is with you?” Despite the curious and friendly tone, you could easily detect an invasive innuendo from his question towards you. And as you met his eyes with your one, you knew that he knew that you weren’t what you seemed.

 

You raised an eyebrow.

 

Very interesting.

 

Before she could answer, you cut off Toriel by sticking out your good hand towards the monster and gave him a friendly smirk. “Hello there. My name is Y/N, and I am currently living with Toriel.” You waited until Zeb stuck a webbed-foot into your hand before biting the bullet. “And I am also a human. _Ánægjulegt að hitta þig_ *.”

 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the look of wild disbelief that was slapped onto Zeb’s—from what you could tell—stoic face. You didn’t know it was from him finding out that you were in fact a human, or whether it was from the audacity of you yourself admitting it to him without a care in the world.

 

Either way, you found his expression hilarious.

 

“My child!” Toriel scolded you, her expression cocktailing in a mix of extreme worry and huffy admonishment.

 

You let out a weak chuckle as you tried to avoid the harrowing glare that your goat mother was searing into your forehead in order to explain yourself. “What? He and the rest of Monsterkind will find out sooner or later. And if I am to live in the Ruins, then it seems only fair to strike the iron while it’s hot, as they say.” You leaned your head back in the wheelchair until you could see Toriel’s face; your long hair cascading down like an unruly river of (h/c). “I just think that it’s better to live a life of truth rather than secrecy, Mom.”

 

And with that, you knew that you had won this battle of wills from the deflation of her stiff shoulders to the soft look melting through her hardened wine-red eyes. She further yielded once you pulled out the “Mom-card”, and watched with delight as her demeanor instantly perked up with obvious happiness—a giant grin threatening to overtake her (failing) stern expression.

 

You thought that Toriel’s overjoyed smile would be one of your favorite things to view Underground.

 

Once she realized that she was exuding a bit too much happiness at the seemingly dire situation, the regal woman cleared her throat before taking the reins of the conversation once more. “I apologize for my daughter’s forthrightness Mister Zeb,” he gave you a half-hearted glare, but you were too busy glowing at her use of the word _“daughter”_ to describe you. Now you were grinning. “She is usually not so brash. Be that is it may, she is correct. Y/N will now and for the foreseeable future be staying here with m—us Underground. She is a kind human and wishes no harm upon us. I would like for the rest of the Ruins’ inhabitants to extend the same curtesy.”

 

Zeb redirected his attention back to you and stared at you with his unflinching amphibian eyes. If you were a lesser woman, or even an inexperienced one in the art of intimidation, then you surely would’ve quailed at the elder monster’s gaze. However, you were not. You’ve been dealt an unfair hand during your childhood, lost your family and nearly your sanity, and had to start life anew without any anchors tethering you to this mortal coil until you meet the sweet Ruins Keeper.

 

You would _not_ falter. You would _not_ fail.

 

If not for yourself, then at least you wouldn’t for Toriel.

 

So, you squared your shoulders and proudly puffed out your chest, preening yourself to mimic that of a majestic and confident peacock. Tilting your chin up to demonstrate your confidence and authority, you meet Zeb’s gaze head on and returned it back tenfold.

 

There was silence and the slight squeezing of the wheelchair’s handlebars for how tightly Toriel was gripping them.

 

Then you heard a loud “ _snrk_ ” before quiet chuckling filled the large purple halls of the Ruins; easily breaking the tension in the air like a popped bubble. Zeb’s croaking snickers softly died down before the frog regarded you with a beaming smile. Even his little stomach creature was tittering at you.

 

_Great…_

 

“ _Ri-ribbit Robbit_ , worry not human,” Zeb reassured with his front webbed-feet raised in the air as if he was trying to calm down a skittish animal. “I mean you no harm, it was all just a test to see whether or not Lady Toriel’s faith was unfounded. Th-though I clearly see that it was _I_ that was mistaken, _ribbit_.” At his sudden stammering, you gently patted your Goat Mom’s paw to get her from glaring at the poor monster that you knew she was doing.

 

Breathing out a sigh of relief once the female monster let up, Zeb straightened himself out with a stern glint in his eyes. “I will be sure to spread the word to my clan and others of your existence, human. However, I will warn them that no harm should come to you and inform them that you are under Lady Toriel’s protection, _ribbit_.”

 

You nodded at his words with Toriel thanking the frog-like monster profusely. “I’ll hold you to it them, Mister Zeb.” You held out your hand and Zeb took it with no hesitation. “Also, I’d appreciate it if you could call me Y/N. “ _Human”_ seems to impersonal—after all, we are friends, right?”

 

Zeb’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before crinkling in amusement as he let out a few more chuckling croaks. “Indeed, Hu—Y/N. I would extend the same curtesy but knowing how particular Lady Toriel is with manners, I believe it would be nigh impossible, _ribbit_.” With a final shake, Zeb began to hop away before turning back to regard the both of you once more. “ _Ribbit Robbit_ , if you happen to see more Froggits just like myself, say hello and say that _“you’re a friend of Zeb”_. I’m sure that will soothe their worries.” And with that, the gentle-Froggit hopped away.

 

After a few moments of silence, you broke it with a snort before turning to the Ruins’ Keeper with a big smile. “Well, that was an experience, eh Mom?”

 

You then proceeded to nurse your bruised skull from Toriel’s mighty whack.

 

* * *

 

 

The Ruins were **_a lot_** bigger than you thought.

 

You’ve felt like you’ve supplied that statement before, but you felt as if your mind couldn’t grasp the _sheer magnitude_ of this place.

 

It only confounded itself further the more Toriel and yourself explored.

 

Already you’ve passed by rooms with giant white columns with strange, colorful, and bulbous buttons sitting on the floors next to them, rooms with nothing but soft looking rose petals spilled upon its floors, a cute bake sale that was run by spiders that didn’t even look like spiders (the looked more like adorable balls of fluff with equally fluffy legs), and even a large hallway that had a large number of Froggits and other monsters idly meandering about their day.

 

The Froggits were especially nice to you as they introduced themselves to your party of two. You were tickled pink that Zeb kept to his promise and you kept to yours by explaining that you were, indeed, a friend of the elder Froggit.

 

And during your explorations, you ran into the other monster inhabitants and were floored by the many types of species there were. Whimsuns, Looxes, Froggits, Migosps, Moldsmals, Vegetoids, and even cotton dummies used for modeling clothes were various sub-genres of Monsters. But those types were the more common ones, as Toriel and the monsters themselves explained. There were other minor types that lived far an few in between in the Ruins.

 

You could only imagine what they beheld in appearance as the supposed common types themselves had familiar yet non-familiar appendages that you took notice of.

 

The Whimsuns appearances were that of a humanoid with two drooping antennae, two small wings, and two little arms and legs. Their body shapes resembled that of a cartoonish ghost. Their facial expressions usually displayed sadness, with an open frowning mouth, and two mostly-closed eyes with dots under them.

 

The Looxes were bipedal monsters with two horns on the tops of their heads, a large, cyclopean eye on their faces, and razor-sharp teeth under their singular eye. They were spherical in shape and were taller than the Froggits by at least three inches.

 

The Vegetoids by far were the strangest out of the bunch that you’ve met. They were, as their namesake stated, literal vegetables. Or rather… Monsters that resembled vegetables. They appeared to be large carrots with a face that covers its entire front. They wore expressions that were always that of a wide smile with overjoyed eyes.

 

The Migosps, like the Whimsuns, had a bug-like appearance, bearing two antennae at the tops of their heads. Migosps were bipedal Monsters and has two sharp fingers. Migosps bear two black lines on their underbelly and an oddly-shaped mouth. These buggy (heh) monsters also tended to twitch and spasm frequently in their pinchers and teeth.

 

The Moldsmals, in your opinion, were the cutest little monsters out of the bunch. They bear a resemblance to and—what you could describe as—lime gelatin, specifically lime gelatin mold. Their light-green mold shone beautifully under the day crystals that harnessed the suns light, and you thought that their sassy sashays and wiggles where the cutest thing in the known universe.

 

Despite their otherworldly appearances, they were endearing in their own little ways as you got to know each type of monster. Whimsuns were shy little things; very soft-spoken, very sensitive, and had little presence. But they tried and that’s all you could really ask of them, especially when it took a little coaxing for you to even talk to **_one_** of them. Looxes were headstrong yet very sensitive when other monsters picked on them. They were a little brutish—like that akin of a bully—but didn’t mean any harm and only played minor pranks.

 

Vegetoids were rather… enthusiastic and cheerful monsters, especially when conversing with them about healthy diets. Usually other monsters strayed away from them when that got overzealous about the subject of food, as their constantly smiling disposition would be perceived as creepy because of how passionate they were of the subject. Migosps were quite rude monsters as they yelled about anything and everything, like that of a bratty teenager or a mouthy cab driver. However, they were focused and driven creatures, and did better and were generally calmer alone than with others. Like a crotchety old man.

 

Moldsmal were patient and pensive Monsters as they are more like to rest on the floor for a while and think than bustle about like most other monsters. Their type didn’t really _speak_ persay, but they usually communicated by wiggling and according to Toriel that was the monster version of ASL. When you learned of this, you were sad and a little disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to communicate with them (even if you did know ASL), but from talking to the diminutive little jellies, you found out that you strangely… understood them to an extent. Like reading the expressions of a person or playing an easy game of charades.

 

You and Toriel interacted with the various monsters a little bit more before you both continued on your journey. Toriel would excitedly explain as much as she could about the Ruins or the various rooms you would enter and pass, or strike up a conversation about this and that. Overall, you appreciated all that she has done for you and you couldn’t help but feel blessed and privileged enough to be taken under the wing of such a kind, caring monster.

 

And as she led you to a large, gated off ledge that looked outwards into the rest of the Ruins, your mind supplied that you would need to pay her back in some form.

 

“ _Ó vá*…_ ” You breathed as you stared out upon the lower levels of the Ruins. If you that the Ruins were bigger before, then it was _GARGANTUAN_ as you looked over the balcony.

 

All you saw were massive buildings made of brick, made of marble, and made of stone. You could see something of a Townhall in the distance with its giant extravagant dome greeting your vision with a confident hello. There was so much history to be had here, it was as if the various Gods of Artisans threw up and from their vomit arose a civilization of beauty and culture. Sure, you could see some dilapidation in some of the buildings, but majority were intact and from the various noises of monsters down below—it was very lived-in and very loved for.

 

“This is the heart of the Ruins my child,” Your Goat Mom said softly as she stood by your wheelchair to take in the awe-inspiring view with you. She had a gentle, rueful smile on her face as she regarded the ancient city. “Here we host _The Market_ , where Monsters of all walks of life buy, trade, and bargain their wares. And here is where majority of the Ruins’ inhabitants live.”

 

“It’s beautiful…” You mumbled, just sitting in stunned silence as you regarded the enchanting vision. You couldn’t believe that such a place like this existed right under your—and the rest of humanity’s—feet!

 

Toriel giggled at your awestruck look and gave you a motherly pat on the head with her massive yet tender paw. You were embarrassed at the action.

 

“I would love nothing more than to be your guide through the city and its streets, however we must wait.” You gave an indignant huff at this. “The Ruins is slowly spreading the word of your existence from the help of Mister Zeb and the Froggit Clan. Despite introducing you to various other monsters, the rest of the dwellers here still do not know of your existence. We must have PATIENCE.”

 

Regardless of your feelings on the issue, you knew that Toriel was right. Change is and will forever be a daunting subject for man, and now Monster, to take on. Depending on how the masses will react to such subject can either be overwhelmingly positive, or overwhelmingly destructive.

 

And besides, it seems you had all your life to get to know this Lost World and its strange yet flattering caring denizens. You figured that you could wait a little longer to get to know them.

 

So, with an amicable smile, you nodded in agreement with the elder woman’s advice, and let her push you back home in your newly acquired wheelchair.

 

And as you rolled along the alluringly aesthetic purple hallways with thoughts of exploring the city and its residents…

 

**_*You were filled with DETERMINATION, surprisingly PATIENCE, and SOMETHING ELSE…_ **

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ánægjulegt að hitta þig. -- "Nice to meet you." in Icelandic
> 
> *Ó vá. -- "Oh wow." in Icelandic


End file.
